


Dark Secrets

by Etoile_Nabeerie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brooding, Broody Draco Malfoy, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Feelings Realization, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Past Abuse, Past Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Past Torture, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, References to Depression, Self-Doubt, Slow Burn, dramione - Freeform, head boy & head girl share quarters, references eating disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 55
Words: 182,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23291497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etoile_Nabeerie/pseuds/Etoile_Nabeerie
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, the Wizarding World is trying to heal and show that they are willing to move forward together. In an attempted show of unity, new Headmistress Minerva McGonagall selected Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger to represent the school as Head Boy and Head Girl to show others what they can do together. Hermione, still healing from what she went through in the war, feels alone without the Golden Trio to stand with her. Draco realizes that perhaps what he was taught is not how the world is meant to work after all. Both damaged from the war, they try to find their places in a world they once felt they belonged in. Can they help each other heal?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 169
Kudos: 277





	1. From Ashes

Hogwarts loomed in the distance, somehow rebuilt despite having been ground zero for the war not a year ago. There weren’t many students, especially new ones, but a number of old faces had returned, all as gaunt as the next, watching the silhouette of the castle with apprehension. How many friends and family members had been lost on those grounds? Hallowed grounds. 

Though not many, a few first years conglomerated together as they were ushered in the hall. Ready to be greeted in the great hall as many others had before them. McGongall had been solemn in her address, but had welcomed them all, Fawkes at her side to demonstrate that anything could rise from the ashes. As such, she had concluded what had been a rather stark dinner compared to the boisterous conversations the Great Hall had once heard. It had been too soon since the room had been used to identify bodies. Far too many of the returning students could see the thestrals though.

The one bit of silver lining was with how few students there were in each grade, there were some actually checking in with classmates from other houses. Returning prefects were watching the students carefully, like they all seemed to think something would happen. Before anything did happen, for ill or for good, the feast was over and the first years were getting led to their common rooms by the prefects. 

Amidst the waves of students abound, two figures would make their way to the tower reserved for the Head Boy and Girl for that year. Two seventh years to uphold the standard for their fellow students, to help the staff maintain order.

Perhaps getting his certificate the easy way would have been best, as his mother suggested, but Draco knew that there would be obstacles ahead, even if he had turned. His trunks had been brought to the quarters he would call home for the next year, and he had been curious to see who would be head girl alongside him. The trunks outside of either door showing that both of them had arrived.

Hermione felt that the first night back had felt...empty. She had Neville to talk to but it was odd without Harry and Ron. She and Ron had broken up over the summer, their fling during the war being just that. A fling. They had thought they were dying and she was pretty sure there were no hard feelings. And now that she was nominated Head Girl by McGonagall she felt a little bit better about coming here to get her education continued. And she had arrived to the quarters she shared with the Head Boy last it would seem, his trunks already in his room.

The suites for Head Boy and Girl were rather large. There was a common room for them with a fireplace, a couch, two arm chairs, and a table. But the decorations didn’t even give away what houses the pair of them were in. It would be a mystery she supposed. So she opened the door to her side of the suite, her room, and brought her trunks in so she could start unpacking.

Rather than keep up the mystery of all of this, she opened the door to their shared bathroom in case they would like to get to know each other a little better. Another swish of her wand had her books going onto the bookshelves in alphabetical order by author and publication date under each author. Her clothing flowed into the closet, the dresser, and was neatly put away. Everything had its place. 

Mother had of course sent a care package, which sat on his desk, surrounded by books he wasn’t ready to shelve. Mostly because they hid the box of sweets and treats he knew was just another attempt to apologize. The constant push and pull he had with the woman that had birthed him. 

Her parents were still in Australia. It was a way for her to try and keep them out of things while they settled. Hopefully by the time she graduated it would be safe for them to return. Her things were shelved and in typical Hermione Granger fashion, she moved to her desk to start organizing her parchment and her quills. 

Ever since the war she had been trying to focus on anything other than the nightmares. Her sleeves were normally long sleeved, hiding the scar from the word that had been carved into her forearm. 

Incapable of staying in his room any longer he stepped into the shared bathroom to wash his face. He noted that open door and paused. Knocking on the frame he announced his presence, hoping, no praying this wouldn’t be a harder year than it had to be.

At the knock to the door frame she smiled a bit and spun around and then froze. "....Malfoy? But....oh Merlin...."

He’d taken a step in, and then a few more as she organized her desk. A part of him recognized that level of anxiety. He’d rearranged his desk and shelves the entire week she’d been in his house, especially the nights she screamed. 

He paled at the way she spoke his name. It was instinctive, the way he hardened, closed his mind and detached himself. “Wasn’t expecting you either, apparently pity earns titles these days,” he drawled dismissively. “Guess I can finish unpacking,” he shrugged. They had nothing to say, or rather what could he possibly say to her after the last year?

At that change to his demeanor she crossed her arms over her chest as she half sat back on her desk. Glad that the long sleeves covered the scar that she'd received in his home. If anything, Hermione's anxiety about school had gotten a little worse. But it was more like anxiety in general got worse after the last year on the run. 

"Apparently it does," she said just as dismissively to him but she sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. It was a little frizzy, not having reapplied her hair potions to it after the train ride. "...We'll just have to learn to work with each other I suppose....McGonagall clearly wants to show unity after.....everything," she murmured, using that word instead of something else.

He paused at the threshold. It was easier to keep his back to her. “We can do rounds in turns,” he said carefully. Obviously she didn’t want to be near him and he couldn’t really blame her. Not after, everything. That seemed easy enough. “It’s not like we plan to sneak around dark corners,” he scoffed, recalling that elder Weasley boy and the blonde Ravenclaw’s torrid affair.

A slight snort left her at that and she rolled her eyes. "I'd rather not lose house points from McGonagall....she'll expect us to actually work together, Malfoy.....we'll figure it out," she muttered with a sigh and looked back to her desk but just nodded her head. "...Play it by ear for later. And no....I don't think we'll have the problem that Percy had...." That had been an interesting time for all the Weasley children in the castle. It had just been so...odd. More odd now that Percy was home and one of the twins was....gone. That thought actually brought a shadow over her expression but she shook her head and turned back to her desk. 

Why did she have to be so stubborn? Of course she wouldn’t take the easy way out, which was aggravating to say the least. “I guess that’s one thing we agree on,” he said in regards to house points. The way she spoke his name had the small hairs on the back of his neck rise, but he ignored it, appearing cool no less. 

"...Did more of the Slytherins from our year return than the Gryffindors did?" She had to ask. There were so few from her year in Gryffindor. Their “seventh” year class was combined with Ginny’s. The older students were given an out and many of them had taken it. 

Of course they wouldn’t have that problem, he rolled his eyes. “A few,” he murmured. Blaise had returned, Pansy as well, but beyond that, none he would have been caught speaking too.

A slight nod of her head was her answer to him. They agreed, which was odd all things considered and unlike Ron she didn’t outright hate Draco. But that didn’t mean she liked him either. At least not anymore. Younger her was someone else entirely. 

That roll of his eyes that she could hear in his voice, years of being teased and tormented by him making it obvious, she smiled faintly and nodded. “....Same. Not too many left from our year that wanted to come back.....makes our jobs manageable at least....” There was a wistful tone to her voice but it covered up a lot of pain. Too many of her friends were dead and gone and the rest didn’t want to face her again.

Draco shrugged. Most of Ravenclaw had returned, and if he were being honest, they were the ones to watch for. "Can't imagine why," he responded sarcastically, a coldness to his tone. 

After having had the Dark Lord living under his roof, he wasn't exactly a fan favorite now that he had lost and was dead, people were so easily swayed, so easy to turn. He had no friends, he knew that now, Blaise being the only exception to that. The only one that hadn't been at his side simply because of his status. "Guess I'll meet you later," he said quietly.

Hermione turned to look at him and rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, because it's such a mystery. I realize. No need to be a prat about it," she grumbled. A bit more quick to anger than she had been before. Everything that she had been through did leave her technically one of the "heroes" of the Battle of Hogwarts. But she didn't feel like a hero. 

"Let me know when you're ready to go on the late night rounds we need to go on....I'll likely be up." Doing homework. As always. It gave her something to focus on.

What had she really expected? She was grumpier, but it didn't matter. He was colder than he'd been, and he didn't rise to her anger. Not like he would have in his younger years. He nodded. "Just need to finish unpacking," he spoke in a low tone, something cold but not the snarl it would have been in the past. Just detached, as he seemed to be lately, as he had been during the war. A place in his head he could hide, one of many tricks he had learned in Occlumency. 

On that he went to his room and closed the door. Back pressed to the hardwood, his eyes snapped shut and he breathed. His wand at the ready he sent everything to sort itself, to go to where it should be and books and clothes zoomed with the anger he couldn't allow himself to show. Where he could be cold and calculated, in moments like these even the simplest spell could be volatile.

That was....he hadn't snapped at her. Hadn't called her a name. That was something she wouldn't have expected from him at all. Closing her own door once he was gone she took in a slow breath. Working alongside Malfoy and the other two members of the Trio weren't here. Ginny was around somewhere, now in her year because of all of the seventh years that wanted to return redoing their seventh year. But she wasn't even sure how to react to Malfoy anymore. 

Absently she rubbed at the scar that was hidden by her long sleeves and flicked her wand, sending the last few items back to their proper places before she sat on her bed. What was this year going to have in store for her _now?_


	2. First Patrol

It was nearly an hour before Draco could feel calm enough to do rounds with Granger around the castle. By now, anyone out of bed would definitely regret it, especially since he was the one they would have to contend with. Slipping out of his chambers he composed himself and knocked on her door before heading to the small cozy common room that they would exit by to wait for her.

Once the knock was on her door she actually pinned back her hair and pulled on her robe, pinning the Head Girl badge to it before she left her room with her wand tucked into her inside pocket. Walking out into their little common room she looked at him and sighed softly as she walked over to him. "Start in the dungeons and work or way up or work our way down and just come back?"

"Work our way down," he said. "Wouldn't hate to make it easy for Ravenclaws and Gryffindors to sneak back to their towers." It wasn't like either of them would catch a Hufflepuff seeing as they were so close to the Kitchens. His Head Boy badge glistened against his black and emerald robes. Even if he'd wanted them to look different, his mother had had them pressed to they would never crease. "Let's get this over with, shall we," he shrugged.

"Fair enough.....though only the younger Gryffindors would likely try in large numbers right now from my house," she murmured. A lot of the troublemakers were gone. And now she couldn't even remember if Seamus or Dean were there. Her robes were also nicely pressed and of that beautiful black and garnet red. Walking ahead of him out of the exit she moved to set the pace. At least they'd be focused. IT wasn't like they'd have all that much to talk about.

Talking, it wasn't even something he had really thought of, though as she passed him he walked a bit more briskly. He wasn't going to follow her, no she could follow him, or they could walk side by side. "I call dibs on the bath after this," he grumbled. He hadn't asked to be Head Boy, and he was glad to be, but that had been until her. Now he just felt like a PR stunt.

A sigh left her lips at that and she cut her eyes over to him. "Leave me hot water and you can have the first one. You'll hear no complaints from me," she murmured. There was a cool politeness from the Princess of Gryffindor. Which is something she knew people had called her mockingly for a while. Now she didn't care. She was a proud lioness that had survived the war even with all of her internal scars and breaks. She'd be fine. Maybe.

"Unless the pipes run out of magic I doubt it's even possible," he shrugged. Things had changed in the castle. So much destruction had become of Hogwarts, it was different. It didn't matter, shiny new walls, and changes didn't stop the images. At least Gryffindor and Ravenclaw didn't offer too many memories. Not like the Headmaster tower did, or the courtyard, or the room of requirement. He tried not to see Fenrir in every shadow. Arm across his center he had his fingers around the hilt of his new wand, the old one having yielded to Potter.

Hermione gave a shrug at that with a slight sigh. "Habit," she said simply. The Weasley home, Grimmauld Place, her home with her parents, and everywhere they had hidden. It would run out of hot water if she didn't caution Ron not to use it all. But unlike Malfoy....it was hard to walk into Gryffindor tower without missing the faces that would no longer be anywhere. The courtyard still made her jumpy as did the Great Hall. She hated eating there already. All she could remember were the bodies laid out for identification after the battle. It made her wrap her arms around herself a little as they walked.

He refrained, but a single breath escaped him similar to a laugh. Of course, she hadn't exactly known luxury, and Hogwarts was the product of riches and power, just as Malfoy manor had been. It still was, but it didn't feel great. He had avoided it, even after this year he planned to move out. Apartment, through marriage, whatever, he didn't care. All he knew was he'd be in a nice warm bath after this round of patrol.

That breath made her glance at him and a ghost of a smile curved her lips. Huh. Interesting. Perhaps a person was still in there after all. Hard to tell just yet. But they walked along and looked over everything. It was astounding how rapidly things had been repaired. How it was like nothing had really changed but hadn't it? There were still secret passage ways but now there were more ghosts around too. Though part of her was glad that one of the Weasleys hadn't decided to stick around as a ghost of Hogwarts. At least not that she had seen.

As they neared the courtyard his pace increased, glancing around for the sake of saying he had, and trying to get out of there as quickly as he could. Dumbledore had fallen there. Many a student and professor had too. He could almost see it all, recall all of it, but he suppressed it, his knuckles whitening around his wand. It too had been reconstructed, like most of everything else.

At the courtyard she almost stumbled a step. That night, Dumbledore's broken body there. Thinking Harry had been dead there...hearing the screams and the fighting was enough to make her keep pace with Draco easily. Shudders rolling down her spine. Maybe coming back here wasn't the best idea....but she was here now and one more year to make sure it was safe for her parents to come back was something she'd stick to.

Honestly, had a student been about he might have cursed them without even thinking. Nothing about that silent walk had been fast enough. He already knew he was in for a long night in bed. It also made him grateful he didn’t have any roommates. “Lead the way to the Gryffindor tower,” he murmured.

Once they were past the courtyard she nodded her head and led the way. She hadn't been in the tower for over a year....and now that she was Head Girl she doubted she would. Not that she didn't know the password, she did, but there wasn't much reason to be there anymore. "...You've never really been up that way, have you? Not when it wasn't just to pass by to get to some class or other."

Draco looked at her. “Unlike some, I never felt the need to sneak into other common rooms,” he reminded. There’d been that one time after sharing firewhiskey with a few students he’d mistaken the Hufflepuff common room with the kitchens, but thankfully that hadn’t really been exposed.

A bit of a blush hit her cheeks and she cleared her throat. "...I never actually made it into the Slytherin Common Room....just brewed the potion that let the other two in," she murmured and almost reached to fiddle with her hair. Those had been times that had bonded the trio....and now she was alone. It was an odd feeling again. But she had a few friends at least.

“Better half cat than Bulstrode,” he shrugged. It wasn’t like she’d missed much. Even then his knowledge had been limited. More ego inflation than anything. It’d taken a war and service to the Dark Lord to realize it. Her skill had impressed him then, made him jealous. Such a pity it was wasted on the other two.

"You're probably right," she murmured but then paused. Had she just said Malfoy was right about something? Clearly she needed sleep. But she continued to walk with him, not seeing a student yet. But why would they? She doubted that students would even feel comfortable misbehaving until half way through the semester after last year.

“Finally, something we agree on,” he quipped. He might have grown some, but he was still young and proud; or perhaps he’d grown used to pretending so much he had finally felt it as though it were true. Either way, it was nice to hear Granger saying such a thing.

A soft groan left her at that. "Shouldn't have said a word," she grumbled but there was a note of something almost like amusement as they checked the corridor that led up to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady waved to her and she offered a smile to the portrait before she led them away from the tower. All clear here.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips at her grumbled response, but he remained quiet. Steeling his expression as the Fat Lady gave him a look. Everything seemed quiet in the lions tower, only three more corners to check.

"Make our way down to Hufflepuff and the dungeons and then back up to Ravenclaw tower?" She proposed as they walked, ignoring the looks they got from portraits. It wasn't something that she blamed them for. It was rare that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor were seen together.

“Works for me,” he agreed, nodding his head. 

As they made their way back down the stairs she sighed slightly, shaking her head. "...Think they'll try to force any events to try and prove we're healing from last year?" She asked, an attempt at some form of conversation. And willing to bet this would be another point they'd agree about at least.

“Given their choice in Head Boy and Girl,” he said casually. “More than usual,” he murmured. He hoped there wouldn’t be press but there was always press. “Healing,” he scoffed, shaking his head as they went through a secret passage that let out under a tapestry near the kitchens.

"You really think they picked us both to make a point?" While McGonagall might do something like that, she might have chosen two that might cooperate with that plan more if she had the option of people. At that scoff she nodded, absently brushing her arm at the thought. The word was likely going to mar her skin forever. Her war wound. "Takes a lot more time than a few months," she murmured quietly, more to herself than to Draco.

“Best students, rival houses, rival sides in the war, a real tear jerking turn around story, with matching scar locations to boot,” he couldn’t look at her as he mocked a voice his father might have used at the ministry to sell an idea. “The press kit writes itself,” he grumbled.

The mention of her scar nearly made her wince, her hand actually wrapping around her forearm slightly as she rubbed at it through the robe sleeve. "...Only a turnaround story if we're more than just polite to each other. Do you really see us becoming fast friends like they might want?" Once upon a time she might have wanted a friendship with him. Until the name calling, but she still had to wonder....there were things about her captivity in Malfoy Manor that only pointed to him.

“I don’t know,” he said gently. It was the truth. He couldn’t see how they could be friends. Not with what had happened at the manor. Just thinking about it made the dark mark on his forearm itch. He’d clawed at it so many times, scrubbed the skin raw on many occasions. 

That wasn't an answer she'd expected and it was starting to lead some credit to a few of her suspicions. But a no would have been the answer before the war. "...Better than nothing," she murmured slightly as she forced herself to stop rubbing at her scar. 

“You, Hermione Granger, want to be my friend?” He was petulant with a side of disbelief. After everything they had been through, it was hard for him to believe. “It’s nice to see you’ve outgrown using your fists,” he drawled.

At his words she shrugged her shoulders as they rounded a corner, looking back at him. "I might have when we were eleven if you weren't such a brat. So that depends....you still a brat?" She asked with a raised brow. Clearly more forceful with her words but she rolled her eyes. "I can still use my fists. Still will if I have to." She'd done a lot more than punch to survive.

Draco snorted at her answer and shrugged. Yeah he’d been a child, a privileged one at that. “I think we’ve both changed a great deal since then,” he reminded gently. Was he still a brat? Eh possibly, but never the same. “I’m sure you can,” he drawled lazily. “But I much rather a proper duel if it comes down to it,” he sniffed. He still has some propriety.

Hermione couldn’t help the small smile, a ghost of one really, that curved her lips. “I think we have. Still figuring out what that means on my end.” She still didn’t know what she was anymore compared to what she had been. Everything she had been so certain of had shifted and changed.

“For muggles that is a duel. Sort of. But I’ll keep that in mind.” She countered with a roll of her eyes. But would she? Probably not. She also didn’t think she’d have to hit him again.

“I’m fairly certain they used weapons,” he pointed. Crap. He’d paid attention in class, and more over had enjoyed certain fiction pieces that had had daring fights. “Or so I’ve read in some dueling manual,” he shrugged. Denial was easy. His entire life was one denial after the next. Deflect and deny.

A bit more of a smile crept onto her face. “You paid attention in Muggle Studies?” That was a shock in her voice but also she seemed a little.....impressed. Clearing her throat she smiled some. “Depends on the era. Fists are used by those that didn’t have weapons.” Even with his denial....she didn’t believe it. Not with how quickly he had pointed it out.

“I might have been a brat but I didn’t need to be an insufferable know it all.” It was his deflection to the fact that he had indeed paid attention. Most of the professors knew, but most never really gave him credit for being top of his class, and only bested by the one before him. “You have a weapon,” he pointed. “Yet your instincts are to bring fists to a wand fight,” he shrugged. Honestly, how had she survived?

A bit of an eye roll was her answer to that and she glared at him. “Uh-Huh. Not that I need to explain myself to you but maybe I felt like I had to prove I belonged here considering no one in my family has magic, ever think of that?” She snapped but it was partially true. But at that comment she shrugged her shoulders. “We were close and your wand wasn’t drawn.....I could have done more damage with the wand. Saying you would have preferred that?” It would be odd to prefer but to each their own she supposed.

Draco didn’t say anything but he did let it sink in. They’d all had their motives he guessed. “You were emotional, and let your feelings get the best of you,” he pointed. “There’s a reason duels are scheduled,” he reminded.

Hermione just looked at him with a dead serious expression. “You lied about an animal’s behavior and were gloating about it being executed and Hagrid’s pain....I think at thirteen years old I was allowed an emotional response.” It was blunt.

“You met my family,” he reminded her. He shrugged, it didn’t matter. It was the past. He knew his mother loved him and that was enough for now. Even if it was clumsy. 

She paled just a little at that. Anytime she thought of his family she thought of how his father was so desperate to please the Dark Lord, Bella’s face as she was tortured. An almost distant expression was on her face as they walked through the halls. “....I have. And it makes sense....doesn’t mean I wasn’t entitled to my reaction. But we were kids. That was...five years ago now.” Wild.

Bravery wasn't a Slytherin trait. It had been discouraged from him time and time again. It wasn't chance that had made Bella choose where to hurt Hermione, it had been calculated, just as everything else was. A test, a constant test of allegiance and loyalty. Ones he'd failed enough to be persistently tested, but passed enough to not be the one on the other end of his aunt's wand. He held back a laugh about it being five years ago, it didn't feel so long anymore, and yet it was more like a different life.


	3. Unlikely Partnerships

The Great Hall still felt empty. The tables weren’t as full and it was easier for her to get away with not eating as much. Hermione Granger barely picked at her food. Ever since Malfoy Manor she hadn’t been eating as much. Mrs. Weasley had been fussing about it all summer. 

Rather than sit and act like she was eating, and before anyone could find out she wasn’t eating, she left the Hall with her bag over her shoulder and made her way down to the dungeons. As she went she tied her hair back from her face and kept an eye out of trouble, more alert than she had been in many of her years here at Hogwarts. 

Reaching the dungeons she stopped outside the potions room, not wanting to be the first one inside, but after a few moments she slowly walked in once she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. She’d be the first one awkwardly to class either. 

Draco found himself having had a rather short night. At least he’d had a bath, and more notes than any student should have without having had a day of class to speak of. He hadn’t lingered much in the Great Hall, only grabbing a few snacks before darting for the Dungeons. When he arrived only one other student had come as early as he, but he couldn’t focus on that when the board had that note on it. 

_Please wait to be seated. We will be doing a new arrangement due to the changes that this year holds for those of us returning. Do not sit where you would normally._

Great. He’d probably end up paired with Neville Longbottom to help keep him from failing, or worse, Seamus. With a sigh he stuck to the back of the class, leaning against the chilled wall, waiting for the professor to assign seats, or rather for professor and students to arrive for such a thing to happen.

Granger was trying not to fidget. There were already a few cauldrons at the front of the room with some sort of potion already brewed. But thank god it wasn't anything like the love potions again that he had brought to class. And not Felix Felicis. Looking over at Draco she sighed and glanced at the board.

"This doesn't bode well," she murmured, more students slowly starting to trickle in, Seamus and Ginny, both trying to talk to her as they spotted a familiar face while Draco had opted to fall back on old habits, indulging Pansy’s diatribes while discussing quidditch with Blaise.

Slughorn came out of his office at the back of the room and flitted around, scanning the room. He started pairing some people off. Ginny was paired off with Blaise, Pansy with Seamus, and a few other people of different houses were paired together....and then there was Draco and Hermione.

She stared at the professor in shock. Why were the two strongest potion brewers paired together?

“Professor, surely there’s been a mistake,” Draco interjected in that cool tone of his. The perfect balance of grief and respect.

“Of course not my boy!” The plump potion master exclaimed with glee. “My two strongest students!” His contentment palpable. “Just imagine what you’ll both achieve in this class together!” The man clasped his hands and shooed them to take a table together.

Granger honestly felt the same and looked over at Ginny. The ginger gave a sympathetic shrug and mouthed the word sorry before Hermione looked at the Professor with a polite smile.   
“But Professor, surely we’d do better sharing our knowledge with our peers rather than…” she murmured, only for him to wave her off. 

"Oh my dear girl! Nonsense! This is your last year of schooling! What better way for you both to shine than to have you work together!" He exclaimed and went to pairing off the rest of the students. 

Holding back a groan she walked over to where Malfoy was, at a table close to the back and ran her fingers through her hair. "....At least neither of us got paired with Seamus," she mumbled just loud enough for Malfoy to hear and no one else.

A snort escaped his lips at the mention of Seamus. That was definitely a perk. 

"Hope Parkinson remembers not to lean over the cauldron....or she might lose hers," she murmured. 

Looking over the book all she had were notes she had taken previous years and the instructions for this particular potion. It should be simple enough. It was the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Nothing too complicated...but enough to keep them on their toes if they didn't pay attention.

Draco would be lying if he claimed Hermione’s statement hadn’t caused the laughing smile that spread on his lips. It was a rather funny thought, but he cast it aside finding it much more enjoyable to start on the potion. Despite many having thought Severus Snape had fluffed his grades for obvious reasons, much of Draco’s credit came down to his own abilities. After all, no textbook had taught him to fix a vanishing cabinet. 

“I’ll gather the ingredients,” he informed his partner, needing a moment to himself in the ingredients cabinet to keep it together. It was just one class. He could handle her as his partner couldn’t he?

As she got the cauldron to the proper temperature, reading over the notes and preparing to chop the ingredients once he came back. Hermione was called the brightest witch of their age for a reason. She committed herself to proving that she belonged here, that she was supposed to fit in with the other natural born witches. 

Shrivelfig, porcupine quills, sopophorous beans, and wormwood, he found them all, and there was one more thing he looked for. Peppermint. It would help counteract side-effects, but his book asked for a specific kind, which he found tucked a bit further. This was something tangible, something he was accustomed to and to which he could look forward. For just a moment he ignored the fact that he was returning to a cauldron and table shared with Hermione.

Instead, he set the ingredients down and double checked the heat of the cauldron. “Think you can handle the shrivel figs?” he asked, reaching for the Sopophorous beans.

“I can handle the shrivel figs.” It wasn’t snapped, just calmly stated as she went along. 

She prepared the ingredient and added it to the potion, turning it counter clockwise as instructed. She knew how to make this potion in theory. In practice it shouldn't be too difficult.

He felt taken aback that she hadn’t snapped at him. Still he remained calm, only a brow lifting lightly in response. Good, it was good. He went on to deal with the beans, pressing them before ultimately cutting them in perfect even pieces. Consistency was the key to success.

He reviewed his notes, ensuring everything was accurate. They were about to forget the porcupine quills.

“We need this first,” he added the accurate portion and allowed her to stir once they were in.

At his addition of the quills this early she blinked but rather than snap she double checked her notes book and frowned before it dawned on her. Snape likely gave him his notes before he died last year. Which meant Draco would have all of the more detailed instructions.

“Chiffonade the mint,” he warned before she added them. “It’ll saturate better.” The whole point was to help counteract the nose tweaking that occurred with the potion.

“Alright. Fine,” she muttered but she also pulled the wormwood over and carefully prepared it as well. 

Most would think that her chopping up the wormwood finely, since it wasn’t detailed in the book, was overkill. But it helped each potion she had ever done.

“You really excel in this subject don’t you, Malfoy?” It was casual enough. She didn’t know his scores on their O.W.L.s.

“You think Professor Snape gave credit out like candy?” he asked incredulously.

Draco noted the frown on her features, but she seemed to be willing to trust him as he instructed her differently from what her textbook stated. He watched her butcher the wormwood, but remained quiet. Instead he smirked as she seemed to catch on. He was good in Potions. 

“Potions is one of my stronger subjects,” he said carefully. “Here,” he moved his book so she could see the annotations he had added. Sure, he had inherited Snape’s books, but he had also taken to creating his own notes as well. 

“Follow these, and we’ll succeed,” he murmured. “And it works, I’ve tried it before,” he added. He wasn’t like Potter, he didn’t just take whatever was in a book at face value.

“You seem to forget he’d take points from my house for things he’d give credit to yours for doing. So excuse my shock,” she murmured with a shake of her head. 

"Points, certainly," he agreed. But then Minerva McGonagall had been the same, perhaps not as generous. “But not grades, he always made that very clear,” he said gently, almost reverently. His father had tried to sway Severus on many occasions, but even the Potions Master had his limits.

“...Fair. Pretty sure Professor Snape hated my guts though,” she muttered.

"Probably," he agreed. 

Leaning over to read the book, she recognized the handwriting in the margins as Snape’s scrawl....and then Draco’s. Interesting. She nodded her head as she continued chopping up the wormwood. “I’ll trust your notes and his if you accept my own changes as well. I didn’t get my grades by slacking,” she murmured.

“Fine,” he said quietly. She was the only student that had beat his scores, but he often blamed favoritism, something she only had to deal with in this very class.

“But if I lose my eyebrows,” he warned, but didn’t actually say anything. 

“You won’t lose your eyebrows, Malfoy,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

She added the peppermint, the beans, and the wormwood before she stirred the designated amount of time. At least she had an engaged partner. A thought which was followed by an explosion behind her that almost made her laugh as she heard Parkinson’s shriek. Oh, that was bad.

“Please tell me it’s as priceless as I think it is......if I look I’ll laugh or something and I just know your sort of girlfriend will want to hex me.” 

“Oh it is,” he promised. It was perfect really. “They look like they came out of the floo network and met a blast ended screwt,” he described the scene, but paused at Hermione’s words. “Not my girlfriend,” he said quietly. He didn’t owe Granger anything, but he also didn’t need to be reminded of his youth. “But she’ll definitely want to hex you,” he chuckled.

“Good....needed to know it lived up to Seamus’s other incidents.” She murmured though at his pause and that quiet statement she blinked before nodding her head. That she could understand. Hopefully it ended on his terms though. “Noted....and it’s a good thing I’ve gotten better at silent and wandless magic,” she murmured. Better. But not perfect. It was a skill she still wanted. While they spoke the potion continued to turn that beautiful golden yellow it needed to be.

"Not quite the explosion of a bridge, but definitely Seamus worthy," his voice barely a breath. It didn't matter what side he'd been on at that moment, there had been a part of him that was jealous of that kid's pyrotechnics. That being said, he also wanted to live through his final year. “They should really just give him his own classroom,” he shrugged. Menace he was. 

Glancing up at him at that she actually smiled a little bit at that. "I heard it was impressive...I sadly didn't get to see it." Seamus had been brilliant from what she had been told and it honestly made Hermione wish she had gotten to see it. She had only seen the aftermath of it all. "They should....but he does do well on occasion. If he has someone to contain him." That was the trouble though wasn't it?

“If she intends to hex me I better be able to defend myself. I know she fights dirty," she murmured with a shrug of her shoulders. There was a lot behind her tactics as a witch if she were honest. But normally the why of her actions was discussed with the other two members of the Golden Trio.

Ideally no one would have had to witness such a thing, but that hadn’t been in the cards for some of them, himself included. All that was left was the aftermath, but he understood it. She’d been in his house, tortured, and he had gotten to hear it all. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, needing a moment. “Pansy will either scare him into containment, or just tie him to his seat,” he shrugged. It seemed like scenarios that would come to pass given this attempt gone sideways. 

He chuckled and focused on the potion, it was much easier to focus on the potion than a potential fight between his ex and his potions partner. “Considering you can fight without a wand, I’d say that both of you fit that description,” he reminded cooly.

"Sounds fair enough...though then he'll try to escape and likely blow up the chair and anything close by," she murmured quietly, just loud enough for Draco to be the one that heard. 

At that comment about her fighting dirty she actually fidgeted and shrugged. "Which is why I'm not looking. I'd prefer this year be as uneventful as possible," she murmured with a sigh, absently rubbing at her arm. Even despite the continued warmth of September she was still in long sleeved. The heat of the cauldron making it irritating but it was still bearable.

“I don’t think uneventful is in your vocabulary,” he shrugged. Honestly, even without Potter and that hand me down ginger, he doubted she could actually stay out of trouble. He noticed her rubbing at her arm, knew what was under her sleeve, but he made no comment. There were salves to at least make it less itchy, especially in this weather. No, he cast the thought aside, it wasn’t his fault Bella had done what she’d done, why should he try to make it better?

"Probably right...years of being around them both likely rubbed off on me," she murmured, running her fingers through her hair and that rubbing of the scar stopped. At least for now. But it was becoming a nervous and anxious habit. Or one that happened when she thought about the war itself.

"We need to cast a Cheering Charm on the elixir once it stays boiling for about ten minutes and then simmer it....we probably beat everyone as far as getting done efficiently." She replied after a moment.

“You should cast it,” he conceded carefully. “Unless you feel you can’t,” he added, not wanting to seem as though he couldn’t actually do so if he had to.

Drawing her wand from her inside robe pocket she nodded her head and looked at the potion. Charms was a good subject of hers but cheering charms weren't something she'd cast in so long. If she could cast a successful one feeling like she did half the time she would be amazed. Amazed and so proud of herself it wasn't funny. 

"I can handle it," she murmured before she waved her wand over it, intoning the spell silently to herself and watching as the potion glowed softly. It settled in that shimmery golden color and just needed a few more minutes.

Despite having been the one to ask her to cast the spell, he watched her as she cast it. It was surreal really. After they had all been through, everyone in the dungeons in that moment probably shouldn’t be able to cast it, and yet they would, half of them, potentially. “Hopefully,” he muttered, but it was more to himself than anything else. A few more moments and they would know if they succeeded. Of course, then they would have to contend with a happy Slughorn who would just praise himself for placing them together first. There was no winning.

A soft sigh left her as she put her wand away and tried not to think about how that charm probably shouldn't have worked. How that charm just...didn't last on any of them the way it should anymore. It was almost tempting to try the elixir to see if it worked but she wouldn't. She didn't want to be that unnecessarily chipper about nothing. Which was what she was sure would happen.

A few minutes past, and the desired sunshine yellow color filled their cauldron. A firm hand clasped on his shoulder, the other on the brunette beside him. 

“Splendid!” The familiar voice boomed in the dungeons. “Absolutely splendid!” 

Draco Malfoy had lived his life for praise. It had been so roughly conditioned into him, even then he had no control over the smile on his lips, the pride in his features. 

“Come gather round,” he called the other students to witness what the pair had achieved. “Who would like a taste?” He offered the class. Perhaps a volunteer before he chose one.

The familiar boom almost made her jump along with the touch before the praise actually made her smile and she tried not to look too prideful of their accomplishment. It was habit. 

Hermione Granger felt like the golden girl again for just a little bit. Able to forget a little of the pain she'd been through. Looking up at Slughorn she almost chuckled but Ginny glanced between Draco and Hermione before she did volunteer. 

Once Ginny took the potion a blissful expression nearly took on her expression along with a smile. Well, it seemed like she could still cast a cheering charm.

Pansy was quick to volunteer after Ginny, using her newfound mirth to fawn over Draco and his abilities to create the best potions regardless of setbacks. 

He honestly wanted to flip her off a table, but ignored her. Instead discussing the use of chiffonade spearmint sprigs to prevent singing and nose tweaking, which he was certain all were grateful for.

Hermione honestly had to hold back the desire to roll her eyes at Pansy. But she just shook her head and smiled. After Draco mentioned the chiffonade of spearmint she talked about dicing the wormwood for proper distribution. 

On that, the bell rang and he collected his things. Despite his best judgement he bottled a sample of the potion, a motion his partner mirrored after packing up her things. It could always come in handy on a rainy day, and it had been brewed so well. With a quick wave of her wand, she cleaned their cauldron.


	4. Synergy

Each class they had went like that so far that week. Charms? Paired together to practice spells on each other and discuss theory. Defense Against the Dark Arts? Same. It didn’t help that students kept giving a lot of the Slytherins that had excelled under the Carrows a sideways glance. This was only made worse by the fact that many were paired with students that had been or known victims of those practices.

The dread only pursued by the end of day, as dinner came by. Where most students had found their way to the large four tables that housed them in the Great Hall, Prefects were invited to a special dinner in the adjoining room, to discuss their position within the walls of Hogwarts along with the changes that were to be made given the circumstances.

Rather than a rectangular table, a circular one - most likely borrowed from Slughorn - had been set for the twenty-four prefects and the Headmistress.

Hermione was immensely grateful that there were other prefects that she remembered from before the war here. Like Padma and Hannah. She walked in between them, talking about classes and attempting to move with them towards a seat. 

“Ms. Granger,” Headmistress McGonagall called to get her attention, gesturing to two placements near her own. “I’d like you and Mr. Malfoy to sit near me while I give updates and announcements,” she informed. 

Padma and Hannah moved to take seats on Hermione’s other side, but it looked like her placement was right next to Malfoy. They had far too much work to do together and it seemed like they never really got away from each other. If it had been their first year she might not have minded. 

“Of course,” Draco drawled, taking the seat given, but seething beneath his composed exterior. He was quite gifted at it.

Headmistress McGonagall greeted the other prefects as they took a seat. The older woman took a seat at Draco’s other side and offered a slight smile to them all. “A few announcements are in order before we simply enjoy a meal together, I think. Far too many of you will tune me out once you start eating.”

There were a few light hearted chuckles, some prefects lightly nudged each other, but all Hermione could think of in that moment was how Ron behaved. That fit him far too well. At least there was no danger of him starting to eat while the new Headmistress spoke.

“Now, as you’ve certainly noticed, Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy are Head Girl and Head Boy,” she said simply. “This was done for a very specific reason, much as pairings in class have been for the same reason. This year is a very daunting year for us all, and its proper functioning is key to the future of Hogwarts.”

Students were giving McGonagall their undivided attention, though there were a few students that gave passing glances to both Granger and Malfoy before glancing back to her. 

“We have been through hardship. Hogwarts will never truly be the same again, but we wish to make the community and bonds we build here stronger than they once were. It is through you students that the Wizarding world will see that these past hatreds can be overcome. It is for this reason that prefects should be paired with a prefect from another house than their own. As a display to your classmates that we can continue to heal, and so you may leave this school with a different outlook.”

A few students looked at each other, and to the pair that had been essentially presented as the original project.

“Your Head Boy and Head Girl will assign you to teams by the end of the week. You will report to them, and they will report to me.”

At least that seemed to be keeping to tradition, or at least so he’d heard from his family as they had prepared him his entire life for getting the title. Now, it felt tarnished and undeserved, but still he nodded.

“They’ll assign your shifts,” she murmured. “You will divide the castle between all of you, and will be given a number of tools to help you in dealing with rule breakers. Only our head boy and girl can deduct points from other Houses, but we will give you all a document with what punishments are appropriate for each rule breaking. We want this to be a fresh start, as such, we will give petty offenses a chance with a warning, but you’ll know what is considered worthy of punitive measure.”

Padma gave a nod of her head. “Will we get the document soon, Headmistress?”

“They should be given to you along with your partnered assignments from the Head Boy and Head Girl by the end of the week,” she replied. 

“And I suppose we’ll be creating this document based on the directives we receive?” Draco said looking at the Headmistress.

“Very astute,” she said with a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve done much of the legwork for you both, but in the spirit of cooperation, I have left some things to be left to your judgments to discuss. I’ll of course approve the final draft before it’s sent to your peers.”

“Of course, Headmistress. We’ll make sure to get it to you for approval in a timely manner,” she murmured with a small smile as she tried not to fidget in place. There were a few people she could already think about pairing together. If Malfoy would sign off on it too she supposed. 

He could think of a few pairs himself, mostly out of spite to share his own pain in the matter.

“Good, good. Does anyone have any questions about this year? As I’m sure you’re aware, Quidditch has been returned to normal and I do believe each of your Houses’ previous captains have been contacted.”

Mostly the table was quiet, slowly taking in all of the information they’d been given. A few of them glanced at one another, as if waiting for someone else to break the ice.

McGonagall glanced at Draco, half expecting him to want to say something about Quidditch. But when he even stayed silent she smiled slightly. “Well then. Any other questions can be asked privately, I suppose. Dig in,” she murmured. 

Draco hadn’t played Quidditch in nearly two years. It had lost its luster for him. Still, he understood its return. Perhaps he’d catch a game. Even go so far as to ensure his house was still best equipped. 

Just as it happened in the Great Hall, food appeared on the plates and the pitchers filled with drinks. 

He reached for his utensils and took a bite, if only to avoid having to speak for a moment. Food at Hogwarts was excellent, not as fine as what he was used to at home, but it felt warmer than his kitchens creations. He couldn’t explain it, and yet as comforting as it was, it also made him feel sick to his stomach. 

Hermione put a few things on her own plate, but it was a lot less than she might have otherwise. She loved the food here as much as at the Weasley home, but she couldn’t put her finger onto why she just couldn’t stomach much. Luckily since she did chase things around on her plate neither Hannah nor Padma noticed. At least she was drinking pumpkin juice.

The only reason Draco noticed was because he employed similar tactics. Mashed potatoes were rather good to conceal small pieces of food. Still, he didn’t say anything, it was none of his business.

Ignoring Draco, she simply listened, letting her gaze move around the table so she could see who was doing what and which students were trying to avoid the others. 

“Hermione? How are things with you and Ron?” Hannah asked quietly after a moment, taking another bite of food. 

The brunette almost grimaced before she smiled slightly at her friend. “Still best mates. He and Harry are both busy with Auror training. Headmistress McGonagall gave them quite the recommendation, from what I was told.”

It took quite a bit for the Malfoy heir not to roll his eyes, but training his features was something he’d learned to do in the last couple of years. Instead he turned his attention to the only other discussion partner he could have. The Headmistress.  
“Congratulations on the promotion, Headmistress McGonagall,” he praised lightly over a glass of pumpkin juice. “I suppose that means Gryffindor has a new Head of House,” he said lightly.

McGonagall glanced over at Malfoy with a small smile. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. The interim Head of House for Gryffindor is Professor Sinistra. It’s good to see you take interest in the other houses,” she praised slightly. 

Sinistra was a fair professor, not in any way biased to a house, though as stark as her name suggested. It would make for an interesting year, that was for certain. “I’ve always taken interest in the staff,” he murmured. “Speaking of which, I suppose we have new professors as well,” he said gently.

McGonagall gave a nod of her head. “You do. I’m sure you’ve already met your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The rest of your class taking Transfiguration will meet the other soon.”

“Ah yes, Mr Winger has been most...informative,” he nodded. “I suppose your replacement will also pursue the teams that have been set in every other class?” he said. “Not very subtle, and all things considering perhaps quite scarring for certain pairs given history.”

“I did tell Professor Winger to be careful with who he paired together. I’m assuming from your not very subtle implications that this was not the case?” She asked with a raised brow with that shrewd way of looking at people.

Hermione took a sip of her pumpkin juice and took in a slow breath. “Defense Against the Dark Arts has been a rather...touchy subject for some people, Headmistress. Pardon me for cutting in,” she murmured to Malfoy before looking back at the older woman. “But I don’t think the professor realizes just how bad it was for some students.”

“Placing certain Slytherins with counterparts they were paired with in last year's class for example,” he said flatly. 

“I’ll have a conversation with Professor Winger right after dinner. I warned him about this,” the woman said crossly and took a sip of her drink with a look of mild irritation.

Draco looked at Minerva for a moment. “It’s a trend that goes beyond that class. Most pairs are fairly set from room to room, take Miss Granger and I,” he drawled. Honestly, the girl had been tortured in his own house, surely that was a troublesome history.

“And I should let each House self isolate once again, Mr. Malfoy? Perhaps only partner Gryffindors with other Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws with Ravenclaws or Slytherins?” Her tone was dry, clearly not expecting any sort of answer. 

A few more of the prefects were glancing over now though, their own conversations gradually becoming more hushed. 

“You had no trouble isolating Slytherin once before,” he reminded with a polite smile. “Or perhaps we’re trying to sweep that under the rug too.” He shook his head. 

“Mr. Malfoy,” the Headmistress’s tone had gotten positively icy. “If you are referring to my decision to send your house to their common room during the war it was to keep many of your classmates from dueling their parents. Not to mention that Miss Parkinson,” she muttered and glanced at the girl in question before looking back at the blonde. “Was willing to serve up Mr. Potter as a piece of meat. If any of the Gryffindors had suggested sending a Slytherin child to their death they’d have been confined to their common room as well.”

“Ah yes, because only my house could possibly be a Death Eater,” he said with a bite to his words. “I can think of a few lions.” He stood and set his napkin. 

“Only your house attempted to immediately throw Mr. Potter to the wolves that evening, Mr. Malfoy.” She replied coldly.

No one dared speak now. Everyone was looking down at their plates or sipping at a drink and trying not to look anywhere. Hermione had visibly paled. The last time she was isolated...the crazy laughter of that day echoed in her ears and she rubbed at her forearm in her lap. 

“It was a lovely dinner, I’m sure Granger will gladly isolate herself with me to work on everything we can possibly work on together.”

“Now. If you have another critique of how I will run _my_ school, Mr. Malfoy, I’m sure you can tell me when you and Miss Granger turn in the assignments for rounds to me on Friday. Is that understood?” 

Hermione had visibly paled. The last time she was isolated...the crazy laughter of that day echoed in her ears and she rubbed at her forearm in her lap. But she didn’t say a word, causing Hannah to lightly nudge her side. 

“Hermione,” she whispered softly, nearly causing the brunette to jump. 

“...It was nice speaking with you, Professor McGonagall,” Hermione murmured before she pushed back her chair and quickly left the room before she could be told to sit back down. 

Whatever appetite she’d had was ruined, the laughter of that night and the sound of her own screams echoing in her head.


	5. Forced Cooperation

After class had dismissed on Thursday students had scattered. It was like they could taste the weekend coming around the corner and some of them were eager for the break. N.E.W.T.s students knew better. There was far too much work to be done so many were scrambling towards the library. And Malfoy had disappeared as soon as class had been dismissed. 

A lot of their work they were able to mostly do alone, being the brightest witch and wizard of their year provided them some freedoms that the others wouldn’t be able to get. They could fake that they had worked together, but they had to split their responsibilities as Head Boy and Head Girl. 

“Merlin, Malfoy. Avoiding me won’t make this go away,” she murmured to herself as she shifted her bag on her shoulder. She’d check their tower first. She took the stairs up quickly, avoiding them shifting on her, and got through their door.

He had spread his research over the table of their common room. Of course he knew he couldn’t avoid her forever, but that didn’t mean that he had to be tied at her hip every second of every day. “Perhaps if you’d spent more time writing out your points rather than hunt me down, we’d have more to discuss,” he said without looking up at her.

At that she lifted a brow and dropped her bag into a chair, drawing out her notes and putting them on the table. “You were saying?” There were notes of multiple pairs, multiple routes, and then back up pairs if he had any input on who would work best with who.

“Still a know-it-all,” he said with amusement. “It was hard enough to get these,” he motioned to a stack of dossiers on each student they were to pair. “You chasing me around didn’t help,” he sniffed. Pansy was thorough if anything.

“And you’re still an arse so we’re even,” she said as she moved her bag to take a seat. “I know quite a few of the prefects from before. Only eight I didn’t know personally and I was able to find out about them...and if you had simply told me what you were doing perhaps I would have left you alone to gather these in peace.” What was with the boys of this school and communicating?

Rather than rise to her insult, he rose to her accusation. “Let’s see, you helped brew polyjuice to prove I opened the chamber of secrets, and that was just your second year, shall we discuss every other time you put your nose somewhere on a hunch that was wrong or ill interpreted?” he demanded. It didn’t matter. “And no offense to your sleuthing, but it’s not that great, even if you know them personally,” he shrugged. He was certain Pansy had unearthed things even she didn’t know about her friends.

The brunette bristled and took in a slow breath. “I was twelve, Malfoy. And it was to eliminate you as a possibility. The boys thought it was you,” she murmured with a shake of her head as she glanced over her different options and almost rolled her eyes. “Then perhaps with both sets of information we’ll be able to get a whole picture. Because I doubt your source, likely Parkinson or Zabini, has the full story either. Combine the pieces and we’ll find pairs that won’t hate each other or fear each other.”

Draco merely closed his eyes to not show an eye roll. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shrugged. “Whatever Granger, let’s get this over with,” he muttered.

“Since you’re so keen on discussing Pansy, I suggest we pair her with Goldstein. He’ll have a better chance than MacMillan, which I have a feeling would have been your suggestion,” he said simply.

“I actually would have recommended Goldstein. There’s too much potential animosity with Macmillan,” she replied easily enough. 

Draco tried not to scoff. Instead he focused. “I also think MacMillan might be best suited to patrol with Patil.” At least she wouldn’t have to deal with another quidditch player that way, and of the choices, they seemed like they had a similar level of wit.

Hermione actually nodded her head. “Good. I was thinking Hannah would do better with MacMillan or Hooper so we’ll put Hannah with Hooper. Since I know McGonagall will want another Slytherin paired with a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor…” she flipped her notes over. “I was thinking of Buttermere with Harper.”

“If we go with that, then I would put Carrow with Ackerley. He’s still a little twitchy, but would know if Flora were impersonating Hestia again,” he thought aloud, shifting a few dossiers, and altering his own list. “That leaves Quirke and Swann as one pair and the other two together,” he said. It would work.

“Knighton and Ramsey,” she agreed as she made notes on her own list. “I was thinking of Fawley with either Querishi or Padgett. Thoughts?” 

“Padgett,” he expressed his preference. “Querishi would do well with Randall most likely. Akagi-Pritchard might clash, but safer to keep Caxton with Khanna.”

“So we’ll have to keep an eye on Akagi and Pritchard if there happens to be conflict,” she murmured, making a note on her paper. “Caxton and Khanna would likely do well with little conflict from what I can tell.”

It seemed they had their pairs, which meant they had to move onto the next item on the agenda. “I suppose that leaves crime and punishment.” 

That almost made her chuckle. That was a book she had on her shelves. “I suppose so. There are the standard crimes. Skipping classes, dueling in the hallways, sneaking out after curfew, pranks…”

“The Headmistress wants the first shot to be a warning, we need to determine what constitutes detention versus loss of points, and which incur both.”

“Unauthorized dueling in the hallways should earn both detention and loss of points. Skipping class a detention. Sneaking out after curfew should earn both...it would depend on the prank whether or not it has points removed.”

“I think I can agree with that,” he murmured. “I would suggest sneaking out solely be detention with point deductions being relayed to us, as our peers can’t dock from opposing houses, leaving them with merely a 50/50 chance of being able to do so.

“Fair point. I can agree with that amendment to it,” she murmured, making notes for her own records. 

They were making swift work of it all, better than he imagined they would when McGonagall had given them the basics. Of course they’d met the prefects on the train coming in on the first, but this was more thorough. A chance to have a say in the matters, which he knew hadn’t always been the case.

“Anything else that you can think of as far as rules or any of the other pairs that might prove problematic?” It was easy to work with him in a professional setting. Easier than she would have thought at least. Hopefully McGonagall didn’t reassign any of them. 

Draco considered it for a while. He didn’t really have much to add as far as rules, but he did have a few ideas. “We should discuss their routes, and given our choices, I would say we need to tailor them to put them at an advantage. You and I for example would do best doing a Slytherin Dungeons to Gryffindor Tower route for example,” he said. “The fifth years should get the first route, they’re the youngest, and should be given time to study before they need to sleep. We can take the last of the night, which will give us time to quickly eat and do our own assignments before that time.”

Hermione wasn’t in the habit of sleeping much as it was anymore. Dreams didn’t exactly soothe her or give her a break from the memories. “I can agree with that. Fifth years get the earliest patrol shifts and we’ll take the later ones. I also think if we ever need to check the courtyards it should be us or a pair of seventh years.”

“We should also ensure that students that are aware of the Room of Requirement be set to patrol that area.”

“That includes Patil, Abbott, MacMillan, Parkinson, and the two of us.”

“Pansy knows of it, knows where it is, but doesn’t know how it functions,” he said quietly. 

“Ah. Patil, Abbott, and MacMillan then. They know how to get in and use it as well.” And she knew of a few other students that knew how to utilize it. “Though Parkinson knowing where it’s located will still help if people are trying to sneak out to get into it.”

He nodded. He wasn’t sure he wanted to teach the girl to use it. “Perhaps we should tell the others where it is, use one of your...paper curses to keep it secret.” It wasn’t a secret what she had done to Marietta Edgecombe. Honestly, even he’d been impressed.

A small smile curved her lips at that and she gave a nod of her head. “We could. Would we like the same one I used on Edgecombe? I could modify it to be a different word or change it completely.”

“Between the both of us, I’m certain we could get quite creative,” he murmured. “While we’re on the topic, perhaps you can enlighten me on how you and your friends communicated without owls,” he said quietly. It could be useful for their prefects. A way to speak with each other.

“I’m sure we could. We’ve already been heralded as the brightest students in our year,” she murmured, not sounding as proud of it as she normally had. But at that she actually laughed slightly this time. “You never figured it out?” That was impressive. If anyone would have she would have guessed it would be Malfoy.

Malfoy looked at her for a moment. “Not for lack of trying,” he said honestly. Obviously, he had missed something. “I suppose we are,” he shrugged. His name had often come second to hers, which had been frustrating.

A small smile curved her lips at that and she leaned back in her chair. “Do you recall when you were in the Inquisitorial squad? How the members of the DA only had paper, quills, and galleons on them?”

“Yes?”

“The galleons. The serial codes on them changed to dates and times the meetings would be held. And they’d warm once a date had been set so you could feel it in your pocket.”

It was a charm he knew all too well. Just thinking of it, he struggled not to scratch at his forearm. “A Protean Charm,” his lips spread in a closed smile.

“Mhmm. I think we still have the master coin somewhere...though we could always change the object in question so that we could communicate in a bit more detail with the other prefects.” She murmured. 

He mulled the new information over. It had been such a clever idea, it almost annoyed him it hadn’t registered with him sooner. Galleons meant nothing to him, but now it made sense. “Perhaps a new object,” he agreed.

“A notebook or journal would be too large,” she mused aloud, actually tapping her quil lightly against her lips as she thought. 

“We could have a handbook altered, update rules in real time, keep tallies of detentions, something useful for prefects as a whole…” he thought, writing down a few notes.

A bit of a smile curved her lips at that. “That actually sounds like a brilliant idea. We can present that to McGonagall tomorrow after class.”

That sounded like a rather good idea. Of course he could only imagine what the headmistress would think of the idea, but he hoped in the end, she would see it’s worth for what it was. She wanted to push cooperation, what better way than to do it that way. “We’ll of course have to add contingencies so if the books are stolen, they can’t be tampered with,” he said thoughtfully.

A bit more of a smile curved her lips at that. “Could always have it that if anyone else touches them that it insults them rather than changes anything.” While she hadn’t trusted the Marauder’s map when Harry had gotten it, it had turned out to be a rather valuable item. Plus it gave her all sorts of ideas for spells. 

“That might work. We’ll have to account for a number of things from fire to water damage…” It would definitely be quite the project.

Jotting down a few notes she nodded her head. “It’ll be manageable. Challenging, but manageable.” Especially since she wouldn’t be the only one working on it. 

“I never said unmanageable.” He had fixed a vanishing cabinet after all.

“I never said you did. If anything I was agreeing with you with what we’d have to account for.” She had a few small ideas for the different enchantments to add to it. 

“Well, I guess we can move on to homework then,” he shrugged. It seemed they’d finished everything in record time really.

Pulling her books from her bag she nodded her head with a sigh. “Agreed. The more we get done now, the more space we can get during the weekend.”

“We’ll need the extra time to work on those books if the Headmistress clears it,” he looked at his scheduler, and began pulling out the books from his bag to start on some homework.

“We will...but I think we can make quick work of it. Two great minds,” she murmured as she went through her scheduler and then pulled out parchment and ink. Another long night of assignments. It certainly beat long nights out in the cold.


	6. Problem Solving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new Transfiguration teacher has some unorthodox methods to teaching her students.

Nothing seemed to have changed in the Transfiguration classroom since it had last held class. Long tables accommodating two students lined as they always were, the inkwells as undisturbed as they’d always been. Though Minerva McGonagall wasn’t at the front of the class, in her cat form, the absence of the new professor hadn’t changed the silence the class seemed to hold before it’s beginning. A board stood in the middle of the stage beside the large wooden desk. Atop it a toad with a dungbomb tied to his back sat quietly, his throat bubbling as it remained otherwise eerily still.

Through the mullioned windows, sunlight danced across the wooden desks, each with an item on it, and a parchment sealed with wax. On the board, a request for students to wait to be seated in a script that looked as chaotic as the classroom. It almost felt like a trap, as if Peeves had opted to give class in lieu of McGonagall’s replacement.

The chaos was jarring in this classroom and they stayed silent, the hush still lingering from when McGonagall taught the course. No one dared to question anything. Hermione was standing next to a few of her friends, keeping her distance from Draco until they were inevitably placed in a team together again. They barely had time away from each other. Free periods were filled with studying, that was often done together due to assignments, they patrolled, and they had all the same classes. She’d had more space when Harry and Ron had been here. 

Draco had been chatting with Parkinson and Blaise as a young looking woman entered the room. Obviously, younger than the professors that normally had tenure, and yet old enough to have graduated long before any of them had crossed the Black Lake to be sorted.

Tulip Karasu was an interesting witch, her navy robes reminiscent of her days as a Ravenclaw, if the acute glint of wit wasn’t apparent in her eyes. Waves of red hair fell over her shoulders, part of it held behind her head in a brass clip shaped as a feather.

“I see you’ve all met Dennis,” she pointed to the toad on her desk. “And yes, that is a dungbomb on his back,” she added with a bit of a smirk. “You’ve all been through quite the ordeal, and this is your last year,” she greeted the class. “I’m not going to go easy on you, just like that dungbomb tied to my toad, you’ll find a puzzle to defuse, piece together, push your limits, and from there, we’ll see how the year goes, won’t we?” A bit of a corner smile perked her lips.

“I doubt I need to tell you who you’re paired with by now, sadly that is not in my hands. I will however let you choose your tables,” she smirked. “Choose wisely.”

This was utter madness. But rather than get bent out of shape over it, she tied her hair back from her face carefully as she made her way over to Malfoy. He had a tendency towards the back of the room, while she liked the back or the middle. 

“As long as it isn’t a back table, I don’t care where we sit,” she murmured to him with a sigh. This year was already starting to drain her. 

Draco looked at the Gryffindor and nodded before eying the tables, watching as several pairs began to choose. When he settled on a desk to the side, he sat down and reached for the parchment.

Hermione looked over at Ginny who simply shrugged as she walked off with Zabini. Ugh. She followed after him and took the seat next to him, wondering what riddle they had gotten themselves saddled with. 

As he opened the box on their table, he pulled out items that were unfamiliar to him. A pair of scissors, white paper, a roll of sticky tape, an odd box, a piece of metal paper, an exacto knife, all these weird pieces that didn’t seem to make any sense to him. 

“She’s mad,” he muttered, reaching for the parchment instead.

Looking at the parchment she actually smiled slightly as she looked over the box and actually clicked it on, the light shining from it and she nodded her head. “...I think I know what we’re doing,” she murmured as she started to piece it together. 

“What are we doing?” he asked, looking at Hermione as if she were the very proof that nargles existed.

“It’s a Muggle experiment...dealing with light waves and projections,” she murmured as she started setting everything up slowly, glancing at the parchment for just a bit of guidance. “My parents built one with me one summer when I was telling them about class. It was their way of trying to understand it.”

Malfoy scowled lightly but sighed. “Alright then,” he grumbled, looking through the instructions and trying to imagine it, but not being quite capable of it. Instead he started doing what made sense to him, what he could figure out from the words on the parchment.

That scowl almost made her chuckle. A lot of the other students were struggling as much as it seemed Malfoy would have on his own. At least Seamus wasn’t likely to make this explode. As she continued to construct the experiment she had a small smile curve her lips. “It’s pretty easy to set up…” she murmured. 

She marked the paper as was necessary, folded it, and then cut the necessary spots to create the slits in the paper. It seemed to be efficient enough, and she was making quick work of constructing it. Others looked confused and were glancing around the room. 

Everyone had an experiment of their own to conduct. He was glad to at least have had a partner who knew what she was doing oddly enough. “I see,” he said, both a testament of seeing the progress being made. 

Once she set up the double slit, she moved the small little box in place and smiled. “Turn on the box with this switch,” she murmured and gestured to the button in question.  
He pressed the switch she mentioned and watched as it showed a beam of light. “Honestly, half of this could have been done with wands,” he muttered.

“Of course, Mr Malfoy,” the voice of Professor Karasu responded. “But wands only go so far,” she reminded. “And often stand in the way of problem solving. Perhaps next time Miss Granger, you’ll let him figure out if he can follow instruction. You can spend the rest of class discussing your findings.”

And just like that the chocolate eyed redhead was off to antagonize the next table.

Well. That was something. Hermione simply blinked at that and glanced after the professor and then back to Draco. “...I might actually be beginning to agree with you,” she murmured quietly.

She’d discussed part of this with her parents but it had been at least five years ago. If not longer. It was when she had been trying to explain transfiguration and charms to them. So what was Professor Karasu getting at?

Draco was glad that his partner was at least seeing the core of his argument now. “I doubt that’s the finding she wants discussed, but it’s nice to be on the same page,” he murmured, looking at the one beam of light and how it went through two slits to create a pattern on the other side. He played with the lid of the box to look at it all from different angles, trying to see what it was she wanted him to get to.

Hermione was going to let him riddle it out a little bit first, though she pulled out a piece of parchment for herself and jotted down what it was they had done already in class and studied the box. There was another step to the experiment that some people did, but she wasn’t sure if that was detailed on the parchment that Draco still held. And she was trying to apply what this was doing to transfiguration. 

The white blond young man jotted notes, his silver gaze keen as he studied patterns and brought the parchment of instructions between him and his partner so she could do what she needed before he’d dare speak. One ray, two slits, a pattern.

“Particles...waves…” he muttered from the parchment as he looked over it. 

“Mhmm,” she murmured as she looked over the parchment. Jotting down her notes. 

He jotted a few more thoughts and paused to speak and decided not to.

Glancing over at Draco she lifted a brow. “...Were you about to say something?” She didn’t want to speak over him if he had an idea. Especially after being chided by the professor for putting it together. 

Draco held a hand up and tried to put words into a coherent thought for a moment. “I’m getting there, sit before you fall out of your seat,” he grumbled. Merlin he hated this. Still he was nearly there. 

Hermione rolled her eyes slightly. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t talk over you, Malfoy. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t want to explain everything to my partners in class.” She sighed, jotting down a few more thoughts. 

“Alright,” he started. “I suppose the box is supposed to represent a wand, staff, whatever conduit to magic, and the light... magic, and the slits the Z factor to an extent, suggesting that beyond particles we need to take waves into account,” he murmured trying to remember concepts from their earlier years. “I’d expect it would be similar to how making a place unplottable merely hides it from muggle view rather than eliminate it, it’s there but isn’t there, much like this one beam of light should merely reflect forward but instead seems to wave through the slits.”

Listening to him she gave a nod of her head. That was...a perfect way to actually look at it. And then it applied not only to transfiguration but to charms as well. “That’s...a very good comparison. A deception of perceptions with and without magic. Not only would it be similar to how we make things unplottable, but it would tie in with apparation as well. Further study into Muggle quantum physics would help with that but it also showcases the different places we are and aren’t in the middle of apparating.” 

Rather than allow his own shortcomings to show, Draco Malfoy nodded as if he were following that entire statement. It just meant he’d have to look into this physics thing. It sounded dreadful, but this had been somewhat enlightening. He made a few more notes.

As the groups seemed to come to the end of each of their experiments, Professor Karasu was back to the stage, sat on her desk as she watched the class. 

“So far I can see there’s potential among you,” she said simply. “But potential only goes so far.” Her gaze moved from student to student. “For your homework, I want you to get to know your partners. This is your last year here at Hogwarts, which means you’ll be faced with something far greater than NEWTs,” she warned. “You’ll have to find your place in the world, and though some of your parents might be a transition into that, I want to push you where you need to be…”

Tulip slipped off her desk and reached for her wand, pointing it at the board so that further instructions were placed across from it, rearranging the demands from earlier in the class. 

“Take note, and I’ll see you all next week,” she said, disabling the dungbomb on her toad, and placing him on her shoulder.

Hermione drew out her scheduler and almost grimaced at the task set before them. Get to know each other. She could only imagine how thrilled Malfoy was as she jotted down the assignment and what sort of questions Professor Karasu wanted answers for. 

“This is going to be a long weekend,” she murmured more to herself than to him as she ran her fingers through her hair with a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you're enjoying the fic so far, and really appreciate you taking the time to read our work! Feel free to leave us some comments about what you like and what you think about it! We really appreciate feedback, and it would mean a lot to us!
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> As always, thanks for reading and being kind with the props!


	7. Duties and Ideas

Minerva McGonagall had everything in order. The hiring process of the new professors had only incurred a few hiccups, but she had a plan for the school.This year was a special one, and though there had been other candidates, she and the staff had come to the conclusion that a Malfoy-Granger partnership would be the best path forward. A physical representation of how the wizard world could move forward. It was important for the generation to follow them to have a sense that there was a way to go on.

The headmaster’s office had been changed a bit, modified to allow her to feel like it was becoming her space rather than Dumbledore’s or Snape’s, but Fawkes remained. He had returned to Hogwarts once he felt it was safe and seemed to enjoy her company well enough. Though he liked to stare at Dumbledore’s portrait. After all, it was bound to the former headmaster’s line, and the portrait was all that remained of him.

There was one tradition that she had continued with this office. One that Malfoy and Granger would soon notice to remain as it were.

Standing outside of the gargoyle, Hermione let out a soft sigh before she looked up at it. “Sugar quills,” she murmured. 

The gargoyle came to life and jumped aside as the stairs started to wind up toward the Headmistress’s quarters. She almost missed the sound of Malfoy’s footsteps coming up behind her. Rather than try to head up before him, she let him lead the way up and followed after him, their papers and decisions in her arms in a book.

Once at the door, Draco moved to open it, noting all of the changes to the office. He had seen it under Snape and Dumbledore. Three Hogwarts headmasters in the time he’d been in school it had to be a record. Hermione stepped in close behind, noting the paintings on the walls and the changes to the room. There were more golds and less books than Dumbledore had once had. 

“Ah, Mr Malfoy,” she nodded curtly. “Miss Granger.”

“Headmistress,” he responded, though the urge to say Professor had been great.

“Headmistress McGonagall,” she replied as she strode into the office behind Malfoy, moving to take a seat in front of her desk. A motion he mirrored with a glance between both women.

“I hope you’ve both done as I requested,” the headmistress said smoothly as she organized the papers that she had for the pair. Prepared to listen to whatever proposals the two had come up with. If they could agree. Clearly ignoring Malfoy’s outburst the other evening.

Draco cleared his throat and gave a nod of the head.

Hermione passed McGonagall a copy of the pairs that they had come up with. “We feel that these prefects will be the best ones to do patrols together. There’s a careful mix of houses to get the diversity that was requested,” she murmured. 

“And we tailored their routes to ensure they would be most likely to fall upon students of their own house, and crossing with pairs of opposing houses here and there in neutral environments.” he added, motioning to the maps offered as well.

McGonagall adjusted her glasses on her face as she glanced over the documents, scanning over the names and routes as she gave a nod of her head. “Good. Well done and well thought out,” she praised slightly. 

“Did either of you have an opinion on the punishments for the students for the offenses I felt were...negotiable?”

“We made a few adjustments and had a few...ideas.” Draco was seemingly needing a moment to try and gather his thoughts. Was he being overzealous? He wasn’t certain, but he had to try didn’t he? At least he had Granger to endorse it.

Hermione gave a nod of her head as Draco collected his thoughts. “A varying structure based on the offense, but also limiting how much punishment is given for an offense. Especially because you’re wanting this to be a fresh start for everyone, Headmistress.”

“Though this is a fresh start, it’s easier to keep things firm and organized and slowly give slack,” Draco ensured to amend. “That being said, Granger and I have developed an idea for prefects to...literally be on the same page. It’s still a work in progress, and we are working on it, but we think we could alter the prefect guidebooks to update in real time.”

“A modified Protean charm? That could work. But it would need further protections than what Miss Granger has performed before,” she cautioned them both, glancing between the two. Though it seemed they weren’t arguing. That was a start. 

Draco looked to Hermione before looking at the Headmistress. “We’ve begun a list of charms and various spells to assist in the matter,” he said simply. “We’re hopeful to have a decent prototype soon enough.” 

“We’ve both had experience in working with spellcrafting and think that it is well within our capabilities,” she agreed as she glanced at Draco and then back to McGonagall.

“If you both feel you can handle it...I’ll want updates on how that is going and approve the project for now. Too many setbacks and I’ll want you both working on your duties and your assignments, is that understood?”

“Yes, Headmistress,” Hermione answered quickly enough. It should be easy enough to listen to the rules without Harry and Ron encouraging breaking them.

Draco felt confident in his abilities, and perhaps working with the girl beside him wouldn’t be horrible. At least not in this respect. A legacy. They would be leaving a legacy behind.

“Good. With that matter taken care of,” McGonagall pulled a few more pieces of parchment forward and offered them to the pair. “Here is the schedule of Hogsmeade visits for the school year and records on the permission slips. It will be up to you and the prefects to make sure that the students are safe and looked after on these visits. The village has been reminded of our fresh start policy as well,” she explained and glanced once at Malfoy before getting a few more documents for them as well. 

Draco took the parchments and looked them over. It was quite a bit, but they could manage. “We’ll handle it,” he murmured. Hogsmeade was something he had tried not to overthink, but he hoped it wouldn’t be too painful for him, or his house mates. “The policy is appreciated.” The lightest flush dusting his cheeks.

Hermione gave a brief nod. “We’ve had to patrol Hogsmeade before. We’ll make sure it’s handled in fair shifts,” she murmured, not daring a look over at Draco in that moment. She knew not everyone was aware of what he had done to Rosmerta before. 

McGonagall glanced at Malfoy and gave a nod of her head. “You were all children, Mr. Malfoy. I expect you know better now,” she murmured, though not as crossly as she might have before as she handed another parchment across. “The current schedule for Quidditch games, assuming there is enough interest for the teams to be reestablished. While you are not responsible for patrolling it, you’ll need to be aware if any of your prefects are on the team.”

Draco took that parchment as well, merely nodding. He’d been a child, and yet, he had struggled not to be one. It was interesting how that worked. Now he was in school, feeling like he shouldn’t have returned, but couldn’t quite face the world just yet. 

“Yes ma’am,” she murmured. Not going to question why Draco hadn’t returned to Quidditch. They’d both changed and she supposed athletics weren’t that high of a priority anymore. 

“Now that we don’t have an audience of your peers,” she started as she leaned back into her chair, resting both arms on her desk. “Did either of you have any concerns or questions about your positions or about the school before I give you the last document that I hardly see as necessary for the two of you.”

Draco could think of a few things. Mentioning professor Karasu’s class among them. “The last document?” He asked, blinking. What hadn’t they covered by this point?

McGonagall sighed and passed over the document in question. “A list of known passages in and out of the castle that need to be covered. Though I’m sure both of you are quite familiar with a number of them,” she explained as she glanced between the two of them. 

“Oh,” he murmured, taking that parchment as well and slipping it with the others. “I expect the vanishing cabinet is no longer in the room of requirements,” he added. It wasn’t like he’d miss it, he would burn it if he had half a chance. “And I would say there’s one more parchment we need,” he added meeting the Headmistress gaze.

“The Vanishing cabinet was destroyed along with other artifacts in the room due to a fire. The room has since repaired itself but the fire’s damage to objects in the room was permanent. Not a piece remains.” She explained simply to him. The fact that they had left even a broken one in there to begin with had been an oversight. 

The headmistress met his gaze before she slid over that final piece of parchment. “Remember to be discreet.”

Hermione nodded her head and added the parchment to their growing pile of things to keep up with. It seemed they had their work cut out for them, and he could only hope that they could make it all work.

McGonagall glanced between the two of them. “I’ll send the schedule to the other prefects along with the routes you’ve selected. It sounds like the pair of you have quite the weekend ahead of you,” she murmured as she watched them. “If you have no further questions you’re both dismissed. Try not to overwork yourselves.”


	8. Reintroduction

Once she walked through the door she let Crookshanks jump from her arms with his indignant huff. She tried not to roll her eyes at her cat as the ginger feline trotted over to Malfoy and twined under his chair and between his legs, sniffing at him. Of course her cat seemed to like Malfoy. Her luck. 

“I’ve looked over the assignment a bit and picked up a few texts from the library that I thought would help. Been working on it long,” she queried as she walked into her room to put down the books she didn’t need and to grab a few more quills and ink to set up in the common room for herself. 

“Here and there since it was given out,” he shrugged. “Though I suppose we should probably look into finishing off that Transfiguration paper.” A topic he obviously wanted to get over with quickly.

“That is one we actually have to do together constructively. The others just need slight input from our partner,” she murmured in agreement as she walked back into the room and set up a space for her to work in their common room with a sigh. 

Crookshanks settled under Malfoy’s chair, swishing his tail back and forth and listening to the pair without making a sound.

Malfoy was cautious with what he did with his feet and legs knowing that the fluff monster was so close and capable of swiping at his ankles at any given moment, not wanting to offer it any sort of temptation. “I’m not the Weasel, if my name is on it, I want more than slight input,” he reminded sternly.

“I’m aware. If you were Ronald I’d be doing _all_ of the work. And I’m not doing that again,” she grumbled as she settled the books she had grabbed on the table. Hopefully a few of them were the ones he had been looking for so she wouldn’t have to grab even more. 

“Of course you aren’t,” he quipped.

Rolling her eyes she let out a slow breath. “So. Transfiguration first. Patrols. And then further studying?” She wasn’t even going to attempt to get to Gryffindor’s common room tonight like her friends wanted. 

He nodded. It seemed appropriate given their duties.

Bringing out her scheduler and parchment before she sharpened her quill she sighed slightly. "Honestly....Not sure what i want to do after Hogwarts anymore. Used to be clear." It was going to take a bit of thought to try and figure out what she wanted to do. This was going to be an oddly eye opening experience for the pair of them she was sure. 

“What was it before?” he asked, curious as to what had been so clear. His own path had been clear. He had options in the ministry, something like his father had had, but now that had changed too.

A small smile curved her lips and she seemed almost embarrassed. "I wanted to teach here. I'm not sure if I'd want to spend that much time here though....not after everything. So I've been trying to figure it out. Maybe something at the ministry?" That was something she could see herself doing. Maybe.

"The very establishment you've fought tooth and nail?" he asked as she spoke about working for the Ministry. That was definitely an interesting shift in vocation. He could sort of see her as a teacher, though he also understood her apprehension with the castle itself.   
“I almost didn’t come back,” he said honestly. “But then I figured I will obviously have to prove myself whatever it is I choose to do in the future,” he murmured.

A small smile curved her lips but she nodded her head and actually looked up at him. "I've fought it, I've learned it....why not try to enact change? Try to make the system better so it actually pays attention rather than burying its head in the sand," she murmured. 

“If you want to change the ministry, you’re better off pursuing your path in the law department,” he said. If he knew anything it was how the ministry worked. “Though, I’d say the private sector is much more lucrative, and potentially the best way to make change,” he added nonchalantly.

She actually understood his point, the private sector could be where to start. But she would have to weigh her options. "What did you want to do before...everything?" She asked curiously. She'd answered when he asked after all.

It sounded to him like she already knew what she wanted to do, but he couldn’t really focus on that when the question turned on him. “Ah, well, it was decided that I would work for the ministry that buries its head in the sand,” he responded in a low tone. It took a moment for him to swallow that down. Truth was it hadn’t mattered before, which meant now it did. “I’ve been considering the Department of Mysteries,” he shrugged.

A bit of a frown curved her lips at that phrasing. But it made sense. "Your father decided for you?" She asked gently, no judgement in the tone but curiosity. Because she wasn't sure if her future would have been planned out if she had stayed in the muggle world. 

He couldn’t quite look at her, wishing his tea had had Firewhiskey in it, but he nodded as he set the porcelain cup down on the small plate. “You’ve met my father,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t like it was a secret that Lucius Malfoy had had his son’s path set out before him.

"The Department of Mysteries might be a good fit....you have the wit and intelligence for it," she murmured like it was an offhand fact rather than a compliment.

“And no one would have to deal with me,” he murmured. The isolation was the best part. The ability to tinker with things, and not be bothered. 

That caught her off guard. “You don’t want to deal with people?”

He looked at her. “After everything,” he said quietly. “Do you think anyone in their right mind wants a Malfoy in a seat of power or visible?” he asked. 

“Considering that without your mother Harry would be dead, they should realize that people are complex,” she murmured. She was still rather certain that a chunk of Wizarding society wouldn’t want her in power. 

“A society that underestimated her for being a woman,” he reminded. “Some things are harder to kill than people,” he murmured. Thoughts, ideas, they had a way of sticking around, even decades after their prime.

Hermione barely resisted the urge to rub at her arm. “I know that better than some,” she murmured with a slight shake of her head as she cleared her throat. “Either way, you were rather charismatic. That could be put to good use if you wanted it to.”

“I’m not sure I have much of it in me,” he admitted. The last few years had been trying. He’d wanted to play with the big boys so long that when he was faced with it, there was no going back. 

“I think you just need to figure out where you stand and who you want to be. McGonagall is right about one thing,” she murmured with a sigh. “Because of what we went through we’re influential. We don’t have to be but we have that power.”

Maybe they were right, but he had trouble seeing it. One moment didn’t redeem all the other acts he’d done. He could only imagine what Madam Rosemerta would do if he reentered the Three Broomsticks. “Perhaps,” he murmured.

“So, Department of Mysteries is what you’re thinking now. I doubt that’s the branch of the Ministry you were interested in before.”

He smirked. “There was a time I considered Quidditch,” he offered honestly. He hadn’t played in two years, which meant he had no hopes of making his way onto a professional team at this point. “That was short lived,” he added with the smallest corner smile.

“Really? You wanted to be a professional Quidditch player?” That was another thing she had thought Harry considered once upon a time. She couldn’t understand it much herself. She was not and would never be the best flyer. 

A bit of shock crossed his features. “I didn’t have my father equip the entire team simply to beat Potter,” he reminded. “I’ve been flying since before I could walk,” he shrugged.

That shock actually made her chuckle. “Should I apologize? I can’t even imagine flying for that long,” she mused with a faint smile. 

“It’s nice...freeing,” he admitted. “Up there, down here doesn’t really matter except if you’re falling.”

“All I have is the fear of falling. I was very glad when flying class wasn’t required anymore,” she murmured with a slight shudder as she jotted down a few thoughts and a few things he had said. 

It was a common fear, he’d had it once or twice, especially after the dementors on the pitch situation. “You haven’t been flying since?” he asked.

Hermione sighed. “Not on a broom, no. Thestrals in July of last year and a hippogriff third year,” she murmured with a bit of a shudder. 

“Pretty sure there was a dragon too,” he reminded gently. It had been impressive really. Quite the breakout of Gringotts. 

That made her shudder worse. “Yes….a blind and stunted dragon...it was the only way out,” she murmured. She’d had enough first years ask her about that. At least that was all the first years asked about. Older students asked worse things. 

“Pretty sure a broom wouldn’t seem so bad after all that,” he offered with a hint of a smirk. “Any ways, we should probably focus on this paper, and finish it before we start on our Potion assignment.”

“Alright then. I think I have what I need as far as how your career goals have changed…” she murmured with a bit of amusement and ignored the broom comment. There were very few reasons she would get on a broom.


	9. Love Boats

The first test of the other prefect pairs had gone well. No one was complaining to the Head Boy or Head Girl over the course of the weekend, no one had hexed their partner, and no one seemed upset about the patrols or the times of them. Their first actual jobs at leading others and it was going...alright.

“We can start from the classrooms hall and down to the basement and dungeons before making our way up,” he murmured as they navigated the moving staircases towards the main floor.

Hermione gave a nod of her head as she moved with him down the stairs. “Makes sense to me,” she murmured. Hopefully it would still be quiet. No one had gotten into any major trouble just yet. 

It was usually hit or miss the first few weeks. Routine and that excitement for the year ahead keeping students in their dormitories. Now, he felt it might be fear. Fear of the ghosts their mind would conjure in the shadows. Sometimes he swore he saw Crabbe around corners. It was silly, his old friend, if that was a word to describe him, had died.

“It’s been quiet,” she murmured as they made their way down to the dungeons, only hearing a bit of muttering between portraits. Each time she walked these halls she feared she’d see someone she knew that had died. Professor Lupin, Fred, Tonks, Colin Creevey. 

Draco nodded, seemingly lost in thought. “We should check the boathouse while we’re here,” he murmured. 

“The boathouse?” She questioned as she glanced over at him, glad that he had pulled her from her musings though. 

“Quiet, overlooked, cute little barges, star speckled skies...I guess Weasley was neither inventive or romantic,” he shrugged. “It’s a common spot for couples.”

That comment made her blush and she simply rolled her eyes slightly. “Ron and I never dated while in school, Malfoy,” she replied and shook her head with a sigh. “Though either you brought Parkinson there or you’ve caught several couples there.”

Draco merely smiled. “Seems you’ll be left to wonder,” he murmured.

Hermione almost scoffed. “I won’t wonder about you and Parkinson,” she muttered as they walked along, heading towards the stairs to the boat house.

Rather than answer her, he merely gave her a look that reminded her she had brought it up. Once near the small docks where the boats lined up tethered to iron holds hammered into stone he made a motion for her to be quiet. As wood met wall in a seemingly natural manner, he remained alert, listening for any giveaways of a presence other than their own..

Hermione nodded, simply listening as they moved forward, listening until she heard a soft giggle from further away. Dear Merlin. 

His silver gaze narrowed on the distance, his senses bringing him to conclude the couple were a bit further out. With a hand gesture he beckoned Hermione to follow, padding forward and down a quai.

She let out a slow sigh, barely audible, but followed after Malfoy. Hopefully they had just snuck out of bed but she wasn’t all that hopeful. Especially depending on what year they were in. 

With his wand out he aimed at the boat in question. A carefully traced spell and a murmured _flipendo_ had the boat flipping over. “How unlucky,” he sheathed the length of black back in his robes.

A shriek and a curse left the boat as it was flipped, a loud splash hitting the water as well. But it seemed that no one was climbing up out of the water. They stayed beneath the boat or the ledge, attempting to avoid detection. 

Draco looked at Hermione for a moment. “Tell me is it leviosa or leviosa?” He asked with a smirk, encouraging her to indulge in some harmless entertainment.

Ah, that old jab. He remembered it? Hermione couldn’t help but smile just a bit. _Wingardium leviosa_ She intoned the spell with the proper inflection, the boat that the pair had been hiding in lifted up and another shriek was heard. 

“Do you think the grindylows come this close to the boathouse?” She asked Draco with an arched brow and just a tad bit of satisfaction as she heard scrambling in the water. 

He exaggerated a motion to think it over. “You know, I think they might, explains why there’s always a few on hand for class,” drawled.

“It would,” she murmured, about to say more before she saw hands on the stone hauling themselves up.

A Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff. The young man was down to his boxers while the young woman was left in her shirt and panties. 

“Definitely not the brightest,” he sighed. “Get dressed,” he ordered them.

The Ravenclaw boy looked at the water and back at the Head Boy, a look that said it all. 

“You’re definitely old enough to know the summoning charm,” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course the kid was dim.

It was the Hufflepuff girl that managed to start casting accio to retrieve their clothing items, her cheeks incredibly flushed as she did so. 

“And old enough to know curfew and what’s out of bounds,” Hermione murmured as she glanced between the two, her tone a bit sharper than it had been even when she had been a prefect sixth year. 

This was definitely one of those moments they hadn’t exactly defined in terms of point loss. “I’m thinking five points per clothing article retrieved…” he looked at Hermione. 

As she glanced over both students she nodded her head. “Reasonable. Are we counting their ties?”

“Definitely,” he nodded. “I’m thinking detention might reinforce the seriousness of the offense…” He hoped Professor Karasu took over it. He could only imagine what she’d do.

“Detention for both of you and…” she trailed off, calculating their articles of clothing. “30 points from Ravenclaw and 25 points from Hufflepuff,” she murmured. Clearly counting the socks and shoes as pairs. 

Something Draco wouldn't have done. “You’re lucky Granger did the math,” he reminded them. “Now back to your respective dormitories.”

The two students finished getting dressed quickly and started up back towards the castle without a word. The Ravenclaw reached for the Hufflepuff’s hand only for it to get slapped away lightly by the young girl. 

Hermione let out a sigh and a shake of her head. Well, that could have gone worse. Though she was still shocked that Draco remembered that conversation she’d had with Ron in first year. That was a lifetime ago. 

There were no other sounds in the boathouse, just the sound of the wood lightly hitting the stone and the light rocking of the lake. 

“We can cut through the courtyard to the Ravenclaw towers,” he sighed, looking out at the crescent moon reflecting on the black undulations of the lake.

The courtyard. The last time she was there in the evening was a little less than a year ago. The thought of which actually made her shudder slightly. “I thought we were keeping to the route...or do you think that he’ll attempt to slip off after his girlfriend?” 

“If you rather follow the idiots, I suppose we can do that as well.” By cutting them off though, he wanted to reinforce the fact that there was no escaping them.

“No, no. We can head up to the tower,” she murmured. Avoiding the courtyard wasn’t something she had to do and she still crossed it during daylight enough times. 

With a nod, he moved to lead the way, cutting through a few hallways to make it to the courtyard. Silver rays from the moon lighting their path forward.

As she walked along with him she tried not to let her gaze linger on the courtyard. It was repaired like nothing had happened. Like it hadn’t had chunks of it blown away by spells and stone soldiers. She focused on making it through the courtyard and back into the castle so they could get to Ravenclaw tower.


	10. Momentary Discernment

For most of the students in the castle, the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom had seen changes every year. Although the room remained the same, the professor, and their decorating skills had seen everything from dark artefacts to more pink than any one person should ever have to endure.

As the seventh years made their way in the large chamber, they hadn’t been sure what to expect. Although the curse on the post had apparently been lifted, years of habit left everyone with a sense that Professor Winger, as all his predecessors since the last rejected application of Tom Riddle, would simply be transitionary. 

Perhaps it was because of the first class pairing people that had been tortured by the person they were paired with that continued that concern, but it seemed like Professor Winger was slowly adjusting and had made some amendments to the pairs that were working together. Hermione and Draco were still paired together, however. 

“I’m sure many of you have noticed your partners have changed. Provided there are no further conflicts between pairs, these are the ones that will be permanent for the rest of the term. If there are any further complaints, speak them now,” Professor Winger stated simply as he glanced around the room. 

The professor’s gaze caught Draco’s silver stare, but the Slytherin remained impassible. He’d had the one outburst, and he wouldn’t have another. 

With the class seeming to accept the new terms, or not have any comment, the new addition to the Hogwarts staff descended the stairs to the stage where his desk remained. He looked at the pairs at their work stations, eying them one at a time.

“Now,” he said making his way to the board. “For at least six, seven for some of you, you’ve been taught a wide variety of spells and creatures. Sat there taking in information, and before you say and then some, sure, a few of the professors have been...competent,” he said. “I promised you hands on classes, and today will be just that,” he said. “At each window you will find a number of items,” he said. “You will go from table to table, and note what you see,” he continued. “I want a short paragraph per table on my desk before you leave, and I will expect a full report next class based on further thought on the matter.” With a movement of his hand, he sent them off.

Hermione took in a slow breath and didn’t say a word. They had had a handful of competent professors, three by her count. A handful of them had dealt with creatures she had hoped never to encounter, but she wasn’t going to say that either. Pulling out parchment and her quills rather than opening her book she moved to stand up, leading the way to the first table for her and Malfoy. Normally he took the lead, this time she would. 

Malfoy quickly caught up to her steps, walking beside her as they made their way to that first table he looked at the crystal jars displayed, each containing a type of fire within. The first bottle seemed to contain warm flames that were fairly tamed. Seeing it he jotted down incendio. The second bottle held blue flames, which made him scoff, too easy. At the third, he paused, a triple color flame, yellow, orange, and red dancing about. It seemed more forceful than the first but lapping at the sides in a desire to get out. He jotted a few notes and ideas. The last one he didn’t even have to think. The beast head in the fire taking him back to the Room of Requirement not one year prior. Fiendfyre.

Just as Draco had jotted things down, she was aware of all kinds of the fire that were in those crystals. The third one gave her a bit of pause and she jotted a few ideas down. It could be the firestorm spell or it could be Gubraithian Fire. She’d figure that out later. All she needed to do now was write down more notes to form her paragraph on. The Fiendfyre nearly made her grimace and she glanced over at Draco for just a moment before she waited for the students at the next table to move. 

He looked over at her. “I’m starting to think the first one is Gubraithian,” he murmured after having glanced at her notes. “Third one though,” he muttered, with the shake of his head. There were a few spells, but he’d have to cross-reference with books.

“That would fit a bit better...and would make sense. Everyone should be able to identify Incendio well enough and it wouldn’t be all that challenging,” she murmured in agreement as she jotted down a few other notes. That left her just a little stumped on the third one, but she wrote down a few other ideas she had in shorthand. 

When a chime came from the front of the class, they were onto the next table, going over what looked like a stone bowl. If he hadn’t noted the students before them to touch it without harm coming to them, he might have hesitated. He took a closer look, letting a finger trace the runes along the outer edge. “These are runes,” he offered her the bowl. A pensieve perhaps?

Hermione took the offered bowl and actually traced a few of the runes carefully. The ancient runes for past, present, future, and fate were ones she noticed immediately. A pensieve made the most sense. A pensieve that hadn’t had memories poured into it yet. “Hasn’t been used,” she murmured before she put the bowl down and jotted down a few more notes about the runes. Did the runes change based on the user of the pensieve? She wasn’t sure. But it was a fascinating thought. 

“It’s broken,” he murmured, turning the bowl to show a rune so faded it could have been Mannaz, or something else.

“Worn down with use then,” she murmured at that, putting down a few more notes. 

He added a few notes himself, trying to understand the purpose of it in regards to the class. “Or cursed,” he murmured. “Runes are hard to damage.”

That actually made her pause. “Could have had protections to keep others from viewing the memories and a spell could have broken those protections.” She’d read of a few specialized pensieves that had been enchanted in such a way.

“Why would we see pensieves in Defense Against the Dark Arts though?” he asked carefully. “Perhaps,” he looked it over and 

“Thurisaz, Ansuz, Raidho, and Sowulo suggests this is more than that. Perhaps a device to see potential scenarios.” Malfoy was jotting things down, analyzing the item before them.

Such an item would be incredibly useful, though then it felt more like a divination tool. It could always be used as a way to play back different scenarios someone went through? She jotted down those ideas as well. Research would need to be done. 

Draco had seen a variety of magical items growing up, but even this one was stumping him. Before he could add much more to his notes, there was another chime and they were onto the next table. This item was beneath a glass cloche unlike the others. As much as he might have wanted to deny its existence, he knew it very well.

The fact they couldn’t handle this item had her pause slightly, taking a few notes as she looked at it. Clearly this was something that was likely cursed or somehow blood bonded to whatever witch or wizard had been in possession of the item. But she couldn’t tell which at the moment and it didn’t seem like they were allowed to use magic on any of the items. 

Reaching for the knob on the glass bell, he lifted it and set it aside. Before Hermione could even think of reaching forward, he held an arm in front of her to keep her from curiosity as he plucked it from his stand and pressed a thumb to its lock. A bit of a hiss escaped him as his thumb was pricked, a drop of blood taken before the box sprung open.

“My favorite quill is in here,” he removed the sharp feather from the box. “Usually people keep darker items in these,” he murmured. He’d had it for the status more than anything, as many items were within the manor. Settling it back he replaced the bell over it.

Hermione actually blinked several times. She had heard the Weasley’s talk about raids that had been done on the Malfoy estate for dark artifacts, and more of them had been done after the war again, but she just shook her head. “...You put your favorite quill in a box with blood enchantments?” Her tone was incredulous. 

The idea of using that instead of any other kind of enchantment or lock on one of those boxes was...strange to say the very least. But she jotted down several notes and gave a shake of her head. How had the professor even gotten his hands on this?

“Yes,” he murmured. “Which is why it was in view during one of Weasel’s fruitless raids.” he sounded more annoyed than anything. “Winger must have gotten it from the Ministry when he was an auror,” he murmured with a shrug.

“There are better places to store a quill, Malfoy,” she murmured but there was a small note of amusement that she couldn’t quite hide. It was that kind of behavior that she would have expected. 

He looked at her. “It’s not like you’d understand,” he shrugged.

That stung just a little but she shrugged her shoulders. “Why you’d store it there? Not at all. Why you’d want to keep something out of sight, that I understand.”

He shrugged. No, he wasn’t about to get into the significance of that quill, or why he had hid it. Nor how this was nothing more than a lock, as she probably had on her journal. At least in his family it was. “It’s just a box, and sure, it requires certain traits to open, but it’s a lock like any other,” he murmured. 

“Blood magic makes it seem more serious,” she said simply without arguing further as she gave another shrug of her shoulders. But at least she could write down exactly what that box was now rather than having to stare at it and guess. 

Before he could discuss the matter further, that chime went off again, and they were off to yet another object.

It was Hermione’s turn to nearly freeze as they approached the next table. She hadn’t seen these since the war and she knew that someone had to have been responsible for rounding them up but she had tried not to think about it. The green tokens gleamed on the table and she quickly jotted down her notes. 

When she froze he braced himself, slowly making his way beside her as she jotted notes. He had had a few in his home. And seeing them again, he paled lightly. Despite himself his fingers moved to the faded mark on his arm, as if the sheer proximity made it itch.

As she jotted down notes, her left arm moved and wrapped around her stomach. It was almost as if the brunette was protecting her arm. That symbol reminded her of Bellatrix more than anything and all she wanted to do was put as many layers between herself and that scar on her arm she could. And yet she couldn’t stop either rubbing at it or hiding it from anyone else’s view. 

When his gaze had set on her arm, he stopped. With a breath he managed to focus on her rather than himself and the churn in his stomach. Before he knew it his fingers had slipped under his marked arm to brush the fingers clutching her side. Easily denied by either of them as an incident, and yet a silent act to offer support.

The light touch nearly made her jolt and her gaze snapped over to Malfoy’s before she blinked. She had been prepared to snap but she just gave a slight nod. Kindness. That wasn’t something she would have expected from him...but it wasn’t unwelcome. Her grip on her side loosened just a bit as she finished jotting down the few uses she knew they had been used for and let out a slow breath. 

Malfoy never put quill to parchment for the tokens, skipping it entirely. He knew what it was, he knew what they were for, perhaps more intimately than any other classmate. 

Once the notes were done, she rested her quill back on her parchment and absently started to rub at her arm. It was a habit she rarely realized she had. 

He couldn’t help but notice how she rubbed at her arm and made a note of it. Seemed he wasn’t the only one with the habit. He tried not to think of the night she’d gotten it. It only made him happier when the chime rang and they were off to the last table.

One more table. One more table and she could go to the Great Hall and talk with Ginny and Neville and Luna. Seating arrangements during lunch weren’t strictly enforced at all anymore. Following him to the next table with her quill and parchment, she tried to stop rubbing at her arm. 

This item was one she was familiar with though. It was a piece of parchment that was just on the table and it looked rather unassuming. But she had seen it unfolded and activated far too many times to ever forget it. It actually had her chuckle as she jotted down a few “notes.”

Draco perked a brow. “Seems you know this one,” he murmured. 

Hermione actually smiled slightly and looked over her shoulder. The other groups were all rather focused on their own tables. “Rather well in fact,” she replied quietly. Half tempted to just confirm it was what she thought it was. 

“The one time it would do well for you to be a know-it-all is now,” he murmured.

Looking at him she rolled her eyes and drew her wand, her voice a quiet murmur as she tapped the parchment. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” she murmured, watching as the ink spread across the parchment and formed the map. 

She glanced at Malfoy before she unfolded parts of it to get to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Where all of their names were in the room to show where they were. 

He paid attention to her motions, and his gaze widened as he laid eyes on the map. So this was how they seemed to always avoid the staff, and his team he figured, in the days of the inquisitorial squad. 

“You’re telling me you three had this the past seven years?” he jotted a few notes, though not quite taking his eyes off the map as he noted a set of feet with his name. Merlin.

“Not all seven….just third year and on,” she murmured as he jotted down the notes. She already knew what it was and a few of the enchantments on it. Once he got a few more looks at it she tapped it again. “Mischief Managed,” she murmured, watching as it all faded away again. 

After a few more notes, he tried to formulate how to even speak about this. All those years of thinking Potter was so smart. Lucky. The bastard had been nothing more than lucky.

“I’m just surprised that he let anyone see it for class,” she murmured with a shake of her head. He hated having the thing too far away, but she honestly could have used it as Head Girl. 

Draco looked at her. “Might not be a bad thing to see if he’d loan it to us, do you have any idea how useful this could be for us this year? Especially if we finish those books?” He wanted to study it, to understand everything that had gone into making the map. Before he could say anything else, the chime that put classes to an end rang, and he gave one set of notes to the professor, and took a copy with him. He had research to do, if he didn’t have enough work to contend with.


	11. Impromptu Reunion

Classes had come and gone, and as with every one, the pair were put to work together. They were efficient, more so than either would have expected so quickly. Lately, they’d even had time for the occasional discussion of things that went beyond class curriculum. Though they weren’t friends by any means, they weren’t enemies. He knew that much.

Hermione wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that she and Malfoy were talking more often. They hadn’t dropped the formality of calling each other by their last names but they spoke a bit more easily. 

“Have you given more thought to which enchantments we can add to the prefect books?”

“A few, actually,” he responded easily enough. “I borrowed a rather interesting book to help out. It’s in our tower, but I brought a few notes we could go over,” he said simply. 

As they strolled down the staircase she nodded her head. “Excellent. I was hoping we could attempt a trial run before too long.”

“If we discuss over dinner we might be able to manage as early as Friday evening,” he murmured.

“And which table should we sit at, then? I’m rather certain I won’t be welcome at the Slytherin table.” 

“Perhaps Ravenclaw, they seem smart enough not to push their luck,” he offered with a hint of amusement.

“You’ll have to be nice to Luna. Or at least tolerate her. If she notices me at her table she’ll likely come to talk,” she warned with a bit of a smile. Ravenclaws felt like her kind of people. She had almost wound up in that house after all. 

He doubted even Luna would join them if he was around. “If you would rather socialize,” he began saying, not feeling the need to end the sentence.

“No, no. I’d rather get this accomplished,” she murmured. It was enough work modifying the spells they needed. “And we will be socializing. It’s not mandatory work we’re talking about,” she pointed out to the blond.

“It’s not, but it would be brilliant on a resume,” he reminded her. “And in case you haven’t noticed, the only people that socialize with me are at the Slytherin table,” he said tensely. “Look around us,” he said, giving a hardened look at a pair obviously discussing his being at Hermione’s side.

Looking over at the pair of students, she narrowed her eyes at them and watched them scatter. It was a different reaction than it had been before. “Only a few friends of mine talk to me at all without asking questions,” she muttered with a shake of her head. 

“I can imagine some of those questions coincide with the few I’ve heard,” he murmured, a slight frown on his lips. Part of him wanted to reach but all he’d managed was a twitch as he avoided touching his arm, the back of his hand brushing against hers.

It took a lot of self control not to yank her hand away at that light brush considering she wanted to rub at her arm. The scar was asked about often. “Probably. Some people know better than to ask.”

“It’s easier to avoid when they’re afraid of you, problematic when they’re not.” When they did it meant he had to shrug them off somehow. Too nice, and it invites others, too mean and well he’d been down that road before.

“I’m not sure I can make that many of them afraid of me,” she half laughed at that, her hand lightly brushing his as well. This was the first time they’d really talked about anything not dealing with school. It was...nice. Though as they stepped off the staircase and moved towards the hall she saw two familiar figures right outside of it. 

Draco had been about to reply when he noted the pair. Of course they’d be close to the map. He should have seen it coming. 

“Mione!” Harry called happily, rushing towards her with open arms.

“Harry!” She easily replied and quickened her steps over to him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “Should have known you’d be here after Defense Against the Dark Arts,” she murmured with a light chuckle. 

“Hey, Mione,” Ron said with a bit of an awkward smile, moving in to give her a hug once Harry had let go of her. 

Hugging him back was a little awkward now, but she had missed him. “Ron. It’s good to see you,” she replied, smiling between her two best friends. 

Draco watched, annoyed by their presence, but knowing better than to linger. “Potter. Weasel,” he greeted, before starting to walk off. Whatever plans they had were over now, he knew that much, and there was no point in staying where he wasn’t welcome.

Harry nodded at Malfoy, a bit apprehensive, but focused on his friend. “You know I don’t let it get too far,” he grinned.

“Of course not. I was surprised to see it,” she laughed lightly, nodding to Malfoy and almost looking apologetic before she focused back on Harry and Ron. 

“I’m sure you’re enjoying classes,” Ron muttered with a wrinkle of his nose like he had been talking about trolls rather than school. 

Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Of course I am, but if you thought sixth year was hard, seventh is worse.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. “Training at the Ministry isn’t a walk in the park either,” he smirked. At least it was hands on though, which was better than books. “So, Malfoy?” he asked unsure what he was even asking at that point.

“Oh, Malfoy is Head Boy. We’ve been working together in class and on routes. It’s alright,” she murmured with a shrug as she glanced into the Great Hall. “Are you two staying for dinner?”

Ron almost scowled at that. “They have you working with that git? After everything that happened.”

“At least I actually do my work,” Malfoy drawled, not stopping as he made a quick exit.

“We are,” Harry quickly interjected. “I’m sure Hermione can tell us all about it over dinner,” he looked at Ron, hoping to calm him down some. “I’m sure McGonagall knows what she’s doing,” he said though whether he believed it or not, he wasn’t quite sure.

The brunette grabbed both of their sleeves and tugged them into the Great Hall, a few people actually turning to stare at the Golden Trio as they stood there. But there was room made for them rather quickly at the Gryffindor table, only Ginny and Neville descending on them for the time being. 

“McGonagall is just trying to get everything to heal, to show that we’ve grown from the events of this past year,” Hermione attempted to explain. 

“All the Herbology students seem to get along,” Neville chimed in with a small smile. 

Harry wasn’t sure anyone healed that quickly, but he understood the premise. “I see,” he said before turning to the voice. “Hey Neville,” he greeted. “That’s...good.” 

“Hey Harry, Ron,” Neville greeted with a sheepish smile and a nod. “Professor Sprout is rather enjoying it.”

“Hey Neville,” Ron murmured with a smile and then glanced back to Hermione. “Are you sure that you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Ronald,” she stated simply, giving him a look before she put a little bit of food on her plate. “It’s been fine. Plus I’ve managed to get my work done far more efficiently this way.”

Ginny tried not to snort as she settled next to her boyfriend and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Hey you,” she murmured and gave a nod to her brother before she grinned. “Working with Zabini has been interesting...he seems to know a lot about everyone in school.”

Harry smiled and wrapped an arm around Ginny. “Hey you,” he said back with a bit of a dopey smile. “How’s the team doing?” he asked. He missed Quidditch almost as much as he’d missed her.

“Going well. I’m captain as well as seeker again. We have a few rather promising new members on the team….some of the other Houses don’t have any familiar faces,” she murmured with a shake of her head. 

Ron just looked at Hermione, lifting a brow. “Efficient?”

“You can’t tell me you thought I was efficient having to proofread your papers, Ron.”

“At least you get a familiar face in classes,” Harry said cheekily. He didn’t feel the slightest bit threatened by Zabini and his gossip. “Just make sure to beat his house in Quidditch ya?” he grinned before turning to Hermione. “We weren’t _that_ bad,” he amended. “I did my own homework…” he said. Probably not well, but well enough.

Ginny couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, absolutely. Slytherin’s new seeker doesn’t stand a chance,” the ginger grinned, clearly confident in it before she started to laugh. “You did yours...but Ron?”

Ron actually blushed a bit. “I did some of my own homework,” he argued. 

“Some. Very little. I ended up having to write or edit most of your work. At least Harry’s just needed a quick once over,” she argued back with a smile. As the others ate though, she simply pushed her food around her plate. 

Harry gave Ron’s back a pat. “He does his own homework now, I promise,” he grinned towards the brunette.

Hermione actually laughed at that. “I’d hope so. How has training been for you both?”

Neville was listening attentively to everything with a bit more of a smile, clearly happy to just be here and for things to sort of be normal. 

Ron just rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Fine, it’s going fine. Lots of memorization and protocol and making sure we’re proficient with different curses and charms.”

“Mostly hands on stuff, but nothing we can’t handle,” he promised. “It’s been nice really, getting out there, and just being a part of the lessons rather than having homework, it’s basically the last seven years, but more peril, less essays,” he grinned.

“Haven’t we had enough peril for a lifetime?” She half teased with a raised brow and actually took a bite of her food and sipped at her pumpkin juice. 

Ron couldn’t help but chuckle. “We’re used to it at this point.”  
“I mean it’s a lot less perilous than before, no one’s actually out to kill me for the first time in my life,” he said cheekily, sipping at his juice and stuffing himself with every bit of food he could. He’d missed the food at the castle, not that he had any complaints about Mrs Weasley’s cooking.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile a bit more. “True. I’m glad you’re safe now, Harry,” she replied easily with a gentle expression. He was family to her as much as Ginny was. 

Ginny actually looked at her boyfriend with a light chuckle. “It must be a relief….though you keep eating like that when you visit and Mum might think that you want her to cook more like the castle.”

Ron glanced over at Hermione, smiling just a little bit. No other guys coming over meant that just maybe he’d be able to get her back. “Anything else going on outside of school?”

“Oh! That reminds me, thank you Ron,” she started and looked back to Harry. “We’re attempting to leave something behind for other Head Boys and Head Girls to be able to use with their prefects in the future….that tool we’ve used might be able to help with some of the enchantments...could I borrow it?”

Harry felt like he got whiplash at that. He might not have been the most keen on noticing social cues, but he knew deflection when he saw it. “The tool,” he started and realized what she meant. He blamed living with her nearly a year to be able to jump conclusions that way. “I… well, I guess...for a while…” he said, not exactly liking the idea of parting with the map. “How long would you need it?”

“Hmm...let’s say no more than two weeks. I’ll take good care of it. I know how much it means to you,” she replied easily enough. 

Ron frowned a little bit. “We?”

Rather than answer Ron, Hermione took another bite of food rather swiftly. The food was heavy on her tongue though and she tried not to think about it as she swallowed it. Eating wasn’t something she really enjoyed anymore. Often the idea of it made her ill. 

“Hopefully there’s a Hogsmeade trip by then?” Harry offered. He knew what two weeks about was, and it would be an excuse to see her again.

“Hopefully. Though it’ll depend on whether or not the village gets their security in place.” But she did like the idea of them both coming back to the castle.

He nodded. “Hope so, if not I guess I can stop by,” he said simply. “We should probably head back, walk us to the gates?”


	12. Attempted Legacy

After crossing paths with the golden trio, Draco had made himself scarce. He’d patrolled and gone straight to bed, leaving little room for discussion. He had needed the space, needed to distance himself. 

The brunette had returned to their tower to a lack of Draco Malfoy. They had been getting along and then...nothing. She couldn’t even tell him that she’d acquired the map for two weeks. And the next day he hadn’t exactly made it easy to talk to him either. He was out of the tower before she was up and class had rather focused topics. 

After class she actually lingered behind in a classroom and did something she hadn’t normally done on her own: she used the map. It showed that Malfoy was holed up in a corner of the library and she quickly gathered her books, their journals they were modifying included, and followed after him after tucking the map away in an inside robe pocket. 

If the library offered one thing, it was peace and quiet. In his fourth year he’d found a table often overlooked by students. Probably because of its proximity to Madam Pince’s office. There he had buried himself in homework and complex formulas to properly integrate spells for those journals they’d been working on on the side. 

Crumpled parchment and stacks of tomes barricaded Malfoy from view, his silver blond hair and emerald trimmed robes the only giveaways of his being there from the right angles.

Hermione moved through the library swiftly, following the path she knew to the neglected table she had used once or twice when she had been younger. She had a few books on the subjects they needed and actually dropped them onto his table with a soft bang as she looked at him with a slightly cross expression. 

“I do believe this was a joint project, Malfoy,” she said curtly as she took a seat next to him rather than across as she pulled the deactivated piece of parchment from her inner robe pocket and dropped it on the table between them. 

Draco looked up, and followed as she sat next to him. He had wanted to speak but noticed the parchment.

“They let you keep it,” he said, clearly shocked.

“He gave us two weeks to work with it. It’s technically a family heirloom at this point….so we’re lucky he let us,” she explained with a sigh as she drew her wand. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” she murmured. 

“Us?”

As she brought the map to life he watched it with renewed interest and some apprehension. “Family heirloom?”

She tucked her wand back into its proper pocket as she nodded her head. “This particular magical artifact is known as the Marauder's Map. It was created by James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew,” she murmured quietly so they wouldn’t attract Madam Pince. 

“And yes. Us. Harry is aware that we’re working together.”

“Did you jinx him?” He asked, obviously not bothered by it.

“What? No. He’s my best mate.” She looked at him like he had grown a second head and opened up her own notes on their project. 

It still felt like there was a catch, but he wasn’t about to question it just yet. Not when they could learn something from it.

Unfolding a few compartments of the map she looked it over, checking to make sure that the prefects were on their routes. 

Draco watched the pairs as they moved around, just as they had been chosen. It wasn’t like they absolutely had to do as they were told, yet surprisingly, they were. He tried not to focus on the steps across the map.

“This is fascinating,” he murmured. Honestly, he’d heard Potter came from an impressive line, but this was…

Hermione gave a nod of her head as she looked over the map, unfolding other flaps and folds to lay out more of the school. “They charted everything. I’d also be willing to play five galleons on it that James Potter and Lupin did most of it.”

“Pettigrew obviously did nothing, the rat could barely snitch properly,” he muttered under his breath.

That comment almost had a chill roll through her. The last memory she had of that man was him dragging her up to the sitting room in Malfoy Manor. Her arm tucked in against her stomach again and she nodded her head. “Sirius was far too...unfocused. He might have provided information on the passage ways though.”

He could see that. He tried not to overthink it, watching her coil wasn’t particularly pleasant for him. 

“Alright, so I made it this far,” he pulled out the formula he’d been working on. “It seems to get helter skelter once we add the fireproofing spell, which we might want to skip, and hope the jinxes to protect them books suffice,” he murmured.

Leaning over to look at his notes she scanned the formulas and then pulled out her own notes and actually started to jot down the different formulas he had and then started to splice in her own modifications. “This might help it be fire resistant. It wouldn’t fire proof it but it would allow for more time to salvage the book. Too many enchantments and they’ll be competing with each other,” she murmured, working it out aloud. 

That was the point he was getting too, but he was pleased that they seemed to at least be on the same page. Fire resistance was something they could settle for. He nodded to himself, adding a few things to his formula, and adding a few calculations.

“That could work,” he agreed.

“We’ll have to do a few test runs soon to see if it’s effective...but it should be.”

“Room of requirements would be best for testing,” he said.

“Shh!” the sound of Madam Pince came from a nearby stack.

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. It seemed foolish to be _that_ quiet in the library after everything but she glanced back to Malfoy. “After rounds this evening or should we start now?”

“Now works,” he nodded, packing up some books.

Packing up her own books into her bag, she drew her wand and whispered. “Mischief Managed,” and tapped the map, all of the details receding again. If they got the first phase of enchantments to work maybe they could replicate some of the ones on the map. 

The librarian gave them a pointed look as they left, as if to make sure they wouldn’t cause any more mischief in her library.

When they were in the hall on their way to the room they sought he didn’t realize the haste in his movements until they neared the hall they needed. 

“So I guess we need a safe place,” he thought out loud.

Hermione nodded her head and paused a moment before she moved down the hall to where the door normally appeared. She hadn’t been inside since...No. She wasn’t dwelling on it. She started to pace back and forth in front of that hall thinking one thought. _We need a safe place to practice magical experiments._ After she did that a few times, the door appeared. 

As the door opened he sighed. “I see you’re ever the Gryffindor,” he muttered, going in. 

“Meaning?” She murmured as she stepped inside. It was comfortable. There were spare notebooks around, a small fireplace, a couch, a table in front of that, and countless books on magical theory as well as different instruments. The room never let them down. 

“You decided what we needed without really thinking it through,” he called her out on simply taking charge. He wasn’t her friends, and sometimes he felt he needed to remind her.

“And what would you have changed about it?” She asked with a raised brow as she looked over at him, only looking the slightest bit sheepish.

Malfoy looked at her. “It’s merely a question of respect. I understand you had to lead your friends by the nose like dogs, but I’m not them, and I do like a say in things,” he said simply, settling his bag on the table to start pulling out things they’d need.

Hermione actually paused before she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “...Sorry,” she said simply. He had a point and she wasn’t about to deny it.

“Just remember it next time,” he grumbled, not really used to apologies. 

She nodded her head as she got her books out of her bag and took a seat. “I will,” she murmured a little awkwardly. Apologizing to a Slytherin, and Malfoy to boot, felt...weird.

With everything placed within reach and out of the way, he looked at the brunette beside him. “You brought the books we’ll be using?” he asked. 

“I did. This might be a long evening of trial and error,” she murmured, but she was actually confident that between the two of them that they’d be able to accomplish it.

He nodded. Oh it most definitely would be, but if they succeeded, they’d leave a more lasting legacy than a map made by a handful of tricksters. “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said, moving to a nearby shelf to grab a few silver tools to ensure they had all their measurements properly calculated.

As he got the tools, she got a few of the practice notebooks as well as the guidebooks out. She was modifying the different formulas and enchantments that would need to be placed and reading over both of their notes again. His handwriting was incredibly neat just like hers. It was a welcome change from Ron’s scrawl. 

With a tinker of metal, one of the devices crawled to the books, taking measurements, while one of the devices Malfoy held seemed to resonate. He took notes and looked over their formula. They had the basics down, but writing things out was always so much easier than actually doing it.

She watched the measurements being taken and drew her wand as she lightly chewed at her bottom lip. “Since we both want to be able to use them...we’ll either have to cast concurrently or alternate spells. Both pose potential problems,” she murmured, allowing him to speak his input rather than choosing one or the other this time. 

“We should probably work them together, both of the books, make sure everything is calibrated evenly.” 

“Alright,” she agreed with a nod of her head, hoping that they would be able to handle this more smoothly than she thought.

“We’ll start with the main book,” he said. It seemed the rational thing to do. At that, he settled his cloak on an arm chair and pulled off his jumper, rolling his sleeves up. He didn’t want any distractions, and that meant also avoiding getting his uniform singed or otherwise harmed in the process.

As he pulled off his jumper she sighed and removed her cloak before she rolled up her sleeves and tied her hair back from her face. If this backfired in any spectacular manner she’d prefer not to be set on fire. 

With a few small exchanges and guidances, the pair were over the books and casting their spells, working together to weave layer upon layer of enchantment. With little need to communicate with each other, they seemed to understand the other’s techniques.

With a surprising amount of unity the pair worked through the enchantments, casting the right spells and doing everything according to their plan. Of course, Draco knew better than to be too hopeful even though they were the brightest of their year, potentially of their generation to some extent.

“The fire resistance is definitely going to be the make or break,” he breathed.

She nodded, concluding the last of the spell. With the back of her hand across her forehead, she pulled back and looked at their work, noting Malfoy moving away from the corner of her eye.

At the fireplace, he set flames forth. Though there were a number of things they could try, none of it mattered if any student could simply cast their efforts in a fire.

The brunette nodded her head with a sigh, picking up the two practice journals that they were attempting to link. “Toss them in at the same time?” 

“If one is the other should be, no need to destroy them both if it didn’t work,” he murmured. As much as he felt confident, that pessimist side kept rearing its head.

Well, he had her there. She chose one of the two practice journals and took in a slow breath before she tossed it in. It was promising. The pair on the edge of their seat. One second went to five but before she could open her mouth to say a word, it caught fire and seemed to burn more rapidly than it should have. 

“Did you by chance ask for coffee in this wonderful room you created?” he asked with a sigh.

A sigh left her lips. “No. I didn’t think we’d need coffee.”

“I suppose you’re used to working with imbeciles who don’t overachieve by any means,” he grumbled. Hopefully they could call a house elf from the chamber. That would be helpful in getting them properly caffeinated for the workload ahead. 

“I’m used to working with people that just want to get by in school but wanted more for out of school,” she grumbled back at him before she moved back to the table with a bit of a groan. Hopefully they’d be able to have a working book by the end of the weekend. 

“We should probably duplicate our remaining journal to ensure we have enough to work with in case of other...incinerations.”

Hermione nodded her head and drew her wand, easily able to do that spell at the very least. It was a spell that had come in handy quite a few times.

With a neat stack in place, and notes on their failure made, he prepared himself for another round of woven enchantments and spells to make the books a reality. 

Looking over her formula and taking notes as well she started to try and tweak what order the enchantments went in and tried to modify the spells a little bit more, but she was glancing at Malfoy every so often, making sure that he approved of the changes. 

By their fifth try, a tray of things to nibble on as well as a pot of coffee sat on a nearby table for them. 

Malfoy avoided the food, but he did down a number of cups of caffeine before getting back to it. He paced as they bounced ideas off each other only to start again.

It was refreshing for Granger to be able to actually bounce ideas off of someone, to actually build something with someone. It briefly made her wonder if the Marauders had felt the same way when they built the map but she pushed that thought away. She could hardly call Draco a friend, could she?

She nibbled at a finger sandwich, never finishing the one, and sipped at coffee as they worked, fighting the yawns. 

“We have to be getting close…”

He was in thought, looking blankly over the notes of the last eight trials that had gone wrong. With his quill against his lower lip he tried not to yawn. 

“Maybe…” he began and shook his head. No, that couldn’t work. “Or…” no they had tried that. Getting up he looked at the books and then notes before looking at Granger to explain how one of the charms was likely acting as an accelerant for the fireproofing instead of slowing it.

That got her attention and she actually started on a fresh piece of parchment as she held back a yawn, jotting things down in reverse order. That might help her out a little bit more. If they were able to pick it apart. And she did see two problems but which one was actually causing _their_ problem?

He was closer to her than he’d ever been, his side nearly again hers as he watched her write. “Here,” he pointed. “Let’s recalibrate this part, and then try again,” he offered.

“It has to be one of these two kinks in the enchantments,” she murmured with a nod of her head, trying to figure out a way to modify that enchantment. Between all of the books and their own wit it wouldn’t take them long. 

Soon enough they were back to testing their latest formula. Working together to weave those spells together.

Exhaustion was starting to get the better of her. When he took a seat next to her she couldn’t help but lean into his side as he continued working on the formula, adding a few more modifications. They were so close. 

No amount of caffeine seemed to help, and as she tucked against him, he barely questioned it. Forehead pressed to his palm, he closed his eyes and sighed. Before he could stop, he was falling into microsleep, dozing and opening his eyes until he ultimately lost the battle. 

As he let her rest against him, her eyes started to fall closed and with a sigh her head fell to his shoulder. He smelled nice and it helped her relax as she started to fall into a light sleep. 

When Draco woke, he had an arm around Granger, nose buried in her bushy hair. She smelled...nice. As quickly as the thought entered his mind he stiffened and quickly pulled away. “We’re probably late for class,” he muttered, rushing out of the room of requirements.

A soft sigh left her lips as he started to move but she almost fell over with a curse as he got up. Three things registered as he rushed out. One, he had left his books and things behind. Two, it was the weekend and he’d discover that soon enough. Three, he had been very comfortable and warm...


	13. Confusion

Since that evening in the Room of Requirement, she had been trying to avoid Malfoy where she could. They hadn’t worked on the journals more yet and she was trying to do her homework alone in their tower. A mutual endeavor it seemed. as Malfoy had avoided all and any opportunity for their night to be discussed. McGonagall might have hoped for some sort of friendship, but that had been too far. If his father ever found out…

Despite it, Draco replayed it in his mind, the way her hair had felt through his fingers. How easily she’d fit against him. Beyond all of it however, was how well he had slept. Since as far as fifth year, that had been the best sleep he’d had, and by the lack of screaming to wake them up, he had to believe he hadn’t been the only one to think so.

“I thought y-“ he began and paused as he noted her presence as she tensed, looking at him like a doe in headlights for a moment. Letting out a slow breath she shook her head. 

“We should...continue working on the journals...we were close to a solution,” she murmured, a faint blush in her cheeks the only hint she was thinking about falling asleep on him as she had. But she was not mentioning it. 

She shifted her books around on the table, leaving room for him to join her if he wanted to. Part of her hoped he would and part of her hoped he wouldn’t. That damn crush when they were younger was coming back and it was stupid. Unsafe even to feel drawn to him in any way shape or form. But she had slept and the nightmares hadn’t touched her, so what did that mean?

He froze as if it would still his hammering heart. The journals. Of course. He had trouble understanding why she was flushed. It wasn’t like she could even like him. 

“I suppose we were,” he murmured. “After lunch tomorrow we have a free period. We can try then,” he added. Last thing he needed was a repeat. Especially with it being so late in the day. 

“Agreed. Easier to try it then….trying to figure it out so late was not constructive,” she murmured, keeping things business like as she looked back down at her work, jotting down a few more things with her quill. 

Constructive. That was a word for it. “I started on the Potions paper,” he offered an alternative. As much as he wanted to bolt, they still had everything together. Honestly, the school might as well have given them their own bloody table.

That offering was something that made her shoulders ease slightly as she gave a nod of her head. “I’ve gotten started on it as well….I’m currently working on the Transfiguration paper,” she offered in return. 

Taking a few steps he set his bag down and took a seat on the couch with quite a bit of space between them. More than what had been usual of late.

Part of her appreciated the space while part of her despised it. “If we work together on the papers I think we can have it finished a few days in advance,” she offered. It was the closest thing to a peace offering as she could give him. 

“We can probably finish one tonight,” he said sincerely, pulling tomes and scrolls from his leather messenger bag. It definitely had an extension charm on it given its slim looking exterior.

As she pulled out a few of her own books she gave a nod. “Potions or Transfiguration?”

“Potions, seeing as we both started,” he shrugged, opening his book and settling it on the table before bringing his quill to his lips.

Hermione pulled her books and her potions paper out of her bag. Her writing was already scrawled halfway down the page in that elegant script she wrote in. 

He slid his work over. “We can trade and go from there,” he murmured.

She paused before passing him what she had already and gave a nod of her head. “Alright.”

After exchanging papers and looking over each other's arguments, the pair worked on their paper. It barely took them an hour that they were back to sitting silently together, that awkwardness settling back in. After settling his things back in his bag he smoothed his hands over his thighs. “So…” he murmured. “Maybe we should get a head start on patrol…” he offered.

There was a decent dent in both of their papers. They almost had the length they needed for Potions and as he put his things down she sighed. “...We could I suppose. Maybe go by the kitchen to get something to go along with finishing our papers…”

He hadn’t actually eaten, so it seemed like a pretty decent idea. “Might not be a bad idea to grab a snack first,” he agreed, getting up. After all, they were a bit early to patrol.

As she moved to stand, she stretched a bit while holding back a yawn. Sitting still for too long was not helping her do her best work. That had to be it. The Head Girl’s badge was in an inside pocket of her robes and she’d put it on the front once they started. 

“I do occasionally have good ideas,” she murmured with a tone that was almost...joking.

“Occasionally,” he agreed, a ghost of a smile. He wasn’t about to give her a compliment for nothing. Instead he began leading the way out of the tower and down into the castle. 

A slight quirk of her lips was there as she slipped out of the tower after him and tucked her hands into the pockets of her robes, strolling along with him easily enough. 

Their descent to the basement was fairly quiet. Most students were tucked in their common rooms. Along their way they crossed a pair of younger prefects making their rounds whom they greeted with a nod of the head. 

Finally making it to the bowl of fruit painting, Draco tickled the pear and stepped in, glad they wouldn’t have company from sneaking students.

“Master Malfoy!” A squeak resounded, the elf making his way over. “And miss Par-“ the elf paused. “Miss Granger,” he nodded politely. “What can I get for you? The usual?” He looked at Draco with big green eyes.

“No no, just tea and maybe some sandwiches?” He asked, oddly gentle and polite.

She glanced over at Draco with a slightly lifted brow. Apparently he either still came here with Pansy or had a lot in the past. Interesting. Looking back to the elf she smiled. “Hello,” she murmured softly. 

“Yes, Master Malfoy!” The elf replied but paused at Hermione, studying her a moment. “...Does Miss Granger wish something as well?”

“Just the same as Malfoy,” she murmured politely, softly. A few of the other elves looked at her with shock, but nodded their heads and went about their duties and to get them food, a small table cleared for them off to the side. 

It was almost like when they had come to visit Dobby. Thinking of the kind elf, Hermione’s heart ached slightly. 

Draco kept his features carefully in place as he took a seat, avoiding unpleasant thoughts of his lost elf. It wasn’t long that tea cups were set before them and a pot between them. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he had come, but he knew it had been with Pansy. He’d worked past her eating disorders enough in their youth. 

The tea was something she poured for the both of them, adding just a bit of cream and sugar to hers before she took a sip and let her gaze wander the elves. A small almost sad smile curved her lips and she tried not to let that emotion overtake her. She’d have to visit the grave during the summer again.

Hermione gave a nod of her head at that. They must have missed each other off and on, which was strange but not unexpected. Part of her wanted to ask though if he had visited with Dobby. She knew what house he had come from. Instead of saying a word, she sipped at her tea.

A motion he mirrored once he’d set a cube of sugar and a lace of cream in his cup. “It seems we finally get that dinner after all,” he murmured. It wasn’t in public, but it was almost better that way.

That actually made her glance up and smile a little bit. “No risk of having to engage in other conversation either...or being asked odd questions.”

An elf made its way with a three tiered tray, small sandwiches on the bottom, a few sweeter bites in the middle, and petits fours on the top. Seemed the elves still remembered some of his favorites. 

He took a bite of a finger sandwich. If only to keep himself from saying something too much. It was still an adjustment being around Granger so much.

“Thank you,” she murmured to the elf who still looked shocked that she was here in the first place before he darted back off. 

Taking a finger sandwich, she just barely nibbled at it as she sipped at her tea. Food just didn’t sit well with her much after everything. 

“They’re still weary of you,” he murmured, not really thinking as the words escaped. To stop himself from saying something stupid he drank a bit more of his tea.

Looking up at him she blinked slightly. “You talk to them?” That left her lips before she could think about it and then cleared her throat slightly. Well, it was too late to take that back so she went ahead. “...Did you visit with Dobby when he was here?”

The lightest bit of a rose dusted his cheeks. “Of course I did, he knew what I liked,” he said simply. “He served my household for as long as I can remember, that sort of help is…” he looked for the right word to use. “Invaluable.”

That actually almost made her roll her eyes at the first part. She knew Dobby had to but still. The last word was what genuinely surprised her before she took another sip of tea. “...He was an invaluable friend to have too,” she murmured before she nibbled a bit more at the sandwich. 

It took everything for him to suppress the scoff that threatened to fall from his lips. They would have never known about Dobby or house elves if it hadn’t been for him, but it didn’t matter. 

Draco put a few finger foods on his plate and paused. “Was there anything about the journals you wanted to review before we work on them tomorrow?” he asked. This was a good time to discuss.

Hermione started as she placed two small finger sandwiches on a plate and ignored the rest of it for a moment. “What if instead of trying to make it fire resistant we modified one of the enchantments to make it appear as a regular journal without a code? Model it after the map slightly so no one would think to just chuck it in the fire?”

That might work. He thought it over. “Unlike the map though, every prefect will have a book…” he reminded. Of course he had to imagine someone was smart enough to think they were connected. “I suppose no one would think it was worth pitching, at least not in this batch of students…” he thought out loud.

“Exactly. Could potentially modify it that each house has a different code to make them feel more individualized….so they can only pass between prefects of the same house to keep that slight distance,” she murmured before pouring a bit more tea for herself.

That could work. He rifled through his bag to get his quill and a piece of parchment.

A bit more of a smile curved her lips at that, feeling rather satisfied. “That spell might integrate a bit better...we might actually get this finished tomorrow.”

He jotted a few thoughts and nodded. “Definitely.” It seemed promising. “Perhaps we should look at that map,” he offered. Get more ideas from interacting with it. “Can I see it?” he asked.

There was only a moment’s hesitation before she drew the map out of her inside pocket on her robe and set it on the table. “You can. Just be careful with it,” she murmured. Harry would be furious if anything happened to it. 

Settling down his quill, he carefully took the paper and looked it over. It truly looked like nothing more than a piece of paper. His fingers traced over the cover of it, ink appearing on it. Fascinating.

A bit of a smile curved her lips. “Try a revealing spell,” she said simply. It would be easier to just show him and since it didn’t combust...he’d just deal with being insulted by the energy of Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

He looked at her with a bit of concern, but still he took out his wand and tapped the parchment. “Revelio,” he murmured, and his eyes widened as the ink stretched and curved to write words in a way he’d only known from a horcrux.

 _Mssrs Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_ it read followed by some sharp jabs at Master Malfoy. “I see,” he murmured. “Clever,” he nodded.

“Quite. They were clearly an interesting bunch while teenagers,” she murmured with a shake of her head. It made her realize that Sirius just never really grew up completely. 

Draco didn’t tuck his wand just yet. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” he muttered, placing the map so they could both look at it. “Might as well get a head start on patrolling,” he smirked. Why do the entirety of the castle when they could simply maximize a route to suit their needs?

A bit of a grin curved her lips at that and she nodded her head. “Fair point...it makes me wonder if Lupin used it when he was a prefect,” she murmured as she leaned over to look at the map, nibbling at her third finger sandwich. It was a little more than she’d eaten in awhile. 

“Makes sense that he would,” he said with a shrug. He’d never really thought of his professors as teenagers.

She nodded her head and unfolded other flaps of the map, actually nibbling at a petit four. Their usual route looked clear, which was unsurprising, but there were others actually close to the astronomy tower. About five students milling around. 

Draco took a bite of a scone and sipped his tea. “Wonder what they’re up to,” he narrowed his gaze on the small group of students near the astronomy tower, skulking about. It would be their first stop.

Hermione wracked her brain to try and place faces to the names on the map...but she couldn’t. “Have to be third years or younger,” she murmured. Maybe they were trying to stargaze but then again maybe someone had been telling war stories again and they were curious about all of those locations on campus. 

“Guess we’ll have to give them a good scare,” he murmured. He could only think of a few things to do in that area to attract a small gathering like that. He ate the rest of his scone and took a moment to enjoy it. 

“Then we best be off.” After storing everything away and popping a petit four in his mouth for the road, he stood and left the table. The elves offered a goodbye which he nodded in response to. 

The pair of them moved towards the painting and rather than falling into step behind him, she tried to go first through the portrait at the same time that he did. It squeezed them close together, their bodies pressed close as they got through. Her heartbeat accelerated at the proximity.

Draco paused, looking at where their chests met before catching that piercing gaze of hers. “Watch where you're going, Granger,” he said, but the words didn’t have their usual bite as he walked towards the astronomy tower to help conceal the heat in his cheeks.

“Likewise, Malfoy,” she almost snapped but there was a blush in her cheeks as she fell a step behind him, heading towards the astronomy tower. Now she was grateful she hadn’t tied up her hair. 

It took a few moments for them to get to their destination, and by the time they did, their students seemed to have made it back to their dorms. Peculiar. He pulled the map to double check once he said the phrase again. “Guess we’ll do our rounds from here,” he shrugged. “Though with this we could technically…” he thought out loud. 

“Are you suggesting we turn in early to avoid physically doing patrol?” She asked as she glanced over at him and lifted a brow. 

“Yes,” he said simply. 

She took the map back and studied it. No one really appeared to be out and about. A few professors conversing in a hall...but no students out of bed. “You do make a decent point..”

“I do make those on occasion,” he drawled with a bit of that Malfoy swagger back to his tone, actually feeling a bit more in his element. 

“..Alright then,” she murmured, feeling that bit of shock from him. It had shocked the boys when she had started breaking the rules as well. But without commenting further she tucked the map into her inner robe pocket and started towards their tower with him. 

After so many patrols, their steps seemed to naturally sync. Every so often their hand brushed the other only to quickly readjust a part of their school uniform or cloak as if it had never happened. It was almost a habit, as if to make sure the other was there, and not just some figment.

Once at the entrance of their common room, Draco parted his lips to speak as he turned to face her. He paused as he noted hers do the same. They were so...pink. He tried to suppress that thought. “I guess I’ll...see you tomorrow,” he managed, but his voice was low.

So low, she drew closer to hear better. Was that a blush on his cheeks? She looked down to not stare, noticing how plump his lips were, and how pronounced that dip in his upper lip was. Had his lips always looked like that or had they gotten more plump with time? This was not a series of thoughts she should be having.

Who leaned in first was hard to tell, a kiss replacing any attempt at discussion. One Draco kept, a hand raising to cup her cheek without ever making contact. Hermione’s hands fluttered, almost touching his robes like she might pull him forward or push him back but was torn between the two as the feeling of his lips on hers invaded her senses. 

In an attempt at free will, his hand fisted beside her head instead as he pulled away, cheeks flushed even deeper. Shock, something almost akin to fear in his gaze as he stormed to his side of the common room and locked himself in his room.

Hermione was anchored to the spot, her heart hammering in her chest as her cheeks filled with flush. Her fingers lifted to brush her bottom lip, feeling warmer from his lips on hers. What in Merlin’s name had she just done? Had he just done? She fled to her own room and locked the door, determined to attempt to focus on her work. But she felt it wasn’t going to work well.


	14. Contrast

Draco was gone from the tower before the sun even rose. He hadn’t really been able to sleep after the previous night. After lunch they would meet. Until then, he needed the space, as much of it as he could get. Despite it's size, Hogwarts felt small, too small.

Hermione was quieter than usual as she busied herself around the tower. She heard him leave. She hadn’t slept much either and she had actually gone back to her old journals to read over a few things. What was wrong with her? There was nothing, nothing, that could explain their behavior the other night. She took a sweet from the basket in the 

“Are you alright, Hermione? You look exhausted,” Neville couldn’t help but ask, ever concerned about his friends. Even more so after his role in the battle of Hogwarts. 

“Oh...uh...fine, Neville. Just wish it was the weekend again already. Swamped with work. Papers. Prefect duties,” she managed trying to brush it off. Her stomach was in knots. Now she just grabbed her bag again. “I’ll see you all in class...Try to get a headstart,” she added with a small smile and left the Great Hall to go back to the stairs. 

Charms was one of the few classes that afforded the students some semblance of solitude. Although they were paired, and grouped, most of the classes were individual in nature, with some peer review here and there. A nice change of pace, and much quieter for the students. 

Draco barely looked at Granger, and when he did, he didn’t appreciate the thoughts that came to mind. No. He had to stop thinking about one silly kiss. It happened, they needed to move on. It was barely mid September. They had journals to make, which meant none of his work for class was getting done despite his attempts to keep focused on non-verbal charms. It wasn’t a lack of competency so much as one of focus, which ironically enough was one of the first things one needed to succeed in such an endeavor.

Hermione kept her gaze away from Draco, knowing they were meeting to finish the journals after this was filling her thoughts. She didn’t know what to say or do. Did they talk about the other night? Did they ignore it? How was this something they put behind them? Because that was necessary. They couldn’t work together like this. A few of her non-verbal charms failed and she muttered under her breath before she tried again. Overall, it was not one of her better days in class. 

Too soon the chime was heard, releasing them from the confines of class. He sighed and started putting his things away. “Same place as last time?” he asked his partner. 

“Makes the most sense…any modifications to what it was last time?” She asked as she put her things away, not glancing up at him as she spoke. 

“I’ll handle it,” he shrugged. It seemed only fair. She had given the room her input last time.

She offered a nod in answer as she closed her bag, moving to stand as she pulled it over her shoulder. “Alright.”

His pace was brisk as he moved forward, leading the way through the halls as students of all ages moved towards lunch and their next class. It wasn’t like he’d had plans to eat, and with his input in the room they’d have snacks and caffeine galore.

Once in the proper hall, and most of the school population far from it, he began pacing the hall, imagining a room that would suit their needs with testing equipment, snacks, caffeine, and books that might be of assistance. He imagined a comfortable yet useful environment. Some place where they would be safe, but where they could also be free to experiment. As he finished the third march, the door appeared, and he opened it exposing a clean modern atmosphere with all the fixings.

The fact that there was food was actually impressive as she followed him into the room and shut the door. She knew on the outside that the door would disappear shortly and that they wouldn’t be disturbed. Which seemed dangerous.

Hermione moved to the table and took a seat, drawing out the journals again and their notes on it before she poured herself a cup of tea.

“So...modifying it so they’re more like the map. Should be simple enough.” At least she hoped so.

He nodded, taking a few steps to grab a few tools and settle his bag down. Business was easier than discussing what had happened.

“Let’s give it a try then,” he pulled his wand from his cloak before setting it down. Preparing himself to give it a new try. He wished he was well rested, not that this was the first time he worked in such conditions.

She took a long sip of her own tea before she drew her wand and actually got out the parchment with their notes on it. She wanted to be done with this soon. That way she could return the map to Harry and go back to just doing homework and patrols and she might actually have time for Ginny, Luna, and Neville.

She modified parts of the formula, keeping the parchment between them so he could comment if he felt it needed to be modified further, but she kept her eyes on the paper. No need to glance up to see his face. Not with the closeness again. 

He nodded. Careful to keep his distance from her. There was a space between them that hadn’t been there the last time they had worked on it.

Settling her wand over the parchment she did dare a glance up at him, keeping her eyes on his. Had they always been that silver? “Ready?”

“Ready.” His wand before him as he prepared to cast the first spells alongside the Gryffindor.

Silently casting again, she focused on the spells that were on the formula of the parchment, they had already established a word for their journals to test it before they’d implement the rest if this worked. 

When they were done, he set his wand down. “You think it worked?” he asked, biting at his lower lip. He hoped so so they could call it a day.

Hermione let out a slow breath as she flipped open the journal. “One way to find out,” she murmured, tapping the journal once. “Prometheus,” she replied softly. 

A bit of ink started to spread across the page, starting to form the list of names and pairs before it faded back into the page again like she hadn’t said a word.

“Bloody hell,” she groaned as she leaned back in the seat and carded her hand through her hair with a shake of her head and a look of irritation on her face. 

“It should have worked, we obviously didn’t do it right,” he grumbled. They had been too close to it working for it not to be them.

“We didn’t do it right? We’re the top of our class….this should be simple,” she grumbled in return and ruffled her hair with a soft groan of frustration, glaring at the journal like somehow _it_ had betrayed them.

He looked between her and the journal. “We are,” he cooly agreed. This should have been simple, it really should have. “And yet here we are, failing.” 

Her exhaustion could be a cause, so could his. “Perhaps if we weren’t exhausted it would be going better,” she grumbled. 

“I slept more than I ever did fifth year,” he grumbled, not about to admit that he hadn’t slept. Of course he was tired but that would be admitting weakness.

“Fifth year you were trying to figure out how to get into this room and how to get at the DA. But I heard you moving around…neither of us slept,” she grumbled and leaned back in her seat, rubbing a hand over her face. 

Draco looked at her. “So you listen to me? Have you been hanging around Moaning Myrtle again?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I was awake. Am I supposed to put on earmuffs so I don’t hear you walking around?”

“All things considered, you could see how your statement might have come off as...stalkerish.”

“My apologies. Let me rephrase, your restlessness kept me restless because I couldn’t tune out the pacing and the books being moved and the sighs,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes. Clearly more prone to snark than she had been before. 

“It’s almost like you’re obsessed with me,” he jeered.

“You’re the one who kissed me, Malfoy,” she snapped as she focused on the formula, not looking up at him. 

He opened his mouth to retort and faltered for just a second. “As I recall it, _**you**_ kissed _me_ ,” he rebuked.

She looked right at him and gave a shake of her head. “You’re mental. You kissed me and then fled. No clue as to why, but quite obviously it was your doing.”

“Oh if I had kissed you…” he began, closing that gap between them. 

“If you had kissed me then what?” She snapped as she looked up at him, surprised at just how close he was to her again. 

He gripped her shirt and planted his lips to hers. It was too late to really say anything more, or to leave. She wanted to know what it would look like if he kissed her, she’d know.

The feeling of his lips on hers again made her shiver, one hand moving to bunch in the front of his shirt like she might push him away...but she didn’t. Instead, she kissed him back, her eyes falling closed for just a moment. 

Draco deepened that kiss, pushing her back towards the table. His body pressed to hers, pulling her in close as he continued to meet her lips.

Hermione clutched at him, responding to that kiss and nearly melting. Though as soon as her back touched the edge of the table she jumped back, nearly toppling over her chair as she stared at him. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes widened a bit. 

“See the difference now?” he breathed, his cheeks a bit flushed.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, her eyes on his for a moment like she was trying to speak before she simply grabbed her bag and left. Her steps carried her quickly out of the Room of Requirement without a word. Before she could be tempted to kiss him again. 

Draco just stood there, watching as she rushed out. He sank into the chair closest to him, and promised himself next time he’d have Firewhiskey added to the created room.


	15. Impasse

A few hours had passed since the incident in the Room of Requirement and Hermione felt like she could have handled that better. In fact, better was a bit of an understatement, but she was only talking herself through this particular dilemma. While there were a few people she could talk to about it, that wasn’t the route she wanted to go. Not without talking to Malfoy about it first. Her cheeks were still flushed as she drew out the Marauder’s Map and drew her wand. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” she murmured as she tapped the map. It made her wonder how many times the Marauders had used it to go looking after crushes. 

Not that Malfoy was a crush! Except maybe he was. The whole situation was confusing and she almost scratched at her arm and that scar, but she focused. It took a bit of unfolding the map and scanning through the different places that he could potentially be that she found him on the map. Looked like he was pacing on the sixth floor of the castle. 

It would take her a bit of time to make it over that way, but she could make it seem like she was actually doing patrols she supposed. But what was she going to say? Merlin’s beard, she had no idea. 

“Mischief Managed,” she murmured before tucking the map back into her inside robe pockets and tucked her wand back out of the way. 

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror in their shared common room as she slowly exhaled, running her fingers through her hair before she left through the portrait. She couldn’t bring herself to rush, but she was keeping a brisk pace as she moved through the halls. 

Malfoy had taken his time returning to the tower. Honestly, he had no plans to really make it back until she was asleep. After a quick stop by the kitchens, he had made his way towards the library, though he’d been stopped on the way over.

“You’re out late,” Pansy drawled.

“So are you?” he shrugged.

“You know me, I enjoy watching the detentions I give,” she said simply. It wasn’t the full truth, but it would do for the time being. “You’re grumpy.”

“I am. Now leave,” he tried to send her away.

Pansy stood in front of him, her hand resting on his chest. “I can help turn that frown upside down,” she purred, nudging him towards a broom closet. “Just like old times.”

“Shut up,” he growled, pulling her in and shoving her down. 

Falling to her knees, she looked up to him in the darkness, reaching for the opening of his pants.

The sound of a closing broom closet was what got Hermione’s attention and without a second thought she opened the door. The light from the hall illuminated the situation and she wished that it hadn’t. Once or twice her mouth opened as her cheeks turned bright red, it taking just a moment or two before she could actually speak.

“...Nevermind,” she murmured and closed the door to the broom closet again and turned on her heel, starting back in the direction of the stairs. 

Draco had a hand in Pansy’s hair when the light hit his face. The brunette at his feet was still reaching in his pants as he realized who he was faced with. “Bloody hell,” he hissed, pushing Pansy off before stepping out of the closet to chase after her.

“Granger,” he called, slowing to catch his pants as they fell. He walked as he quickly zipped himself up again.

She kept her pace, not slowing as he chased after her. “No, no. It’s not important. You looked rather cozy with your not girlfriend. Don’t let me interrupt,” she muttered, barely loud enough to be heard as her cheeks blazed red. 

“She’s not my girlfriend, and I wasn’t cozy,” he grumbled, speeding up when his pants were on again.

“If you say so, Malfoy,” she murmured, starting to go up the staircase, though as soon as he reached it, it started to move. A groan left her at that. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

At least the school seemed to want them to have a moment together. “I say so,” he pressed. “So we should probably talk about...not that... but earlier,” he said gently. He didn’t want to, but obviously it had been an issue.

Holding back another groan she looked over her shoulder at him, keeping that distance between them of several steps. “It didn’t exactly _look_ like she’s not your girlfriend,” she stated, keeping her tone calm but her cheeks were still bright red. “And what is there to say about it?”

“Well she’s not... she just...and... it…” he began and really couldn’t say anything clearly. Truth was, as much as he wouldn’t mind throwing Pansy under the proverbial knight bus, he didn’t want to open that can of worms. Sex was private. “Look, that...is not something I’m going to discuss, but we did kiss, and that is something we can discuss,” he offered.

“I’m not wanting to discuss what I just saw either,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as the staircase started to swing back into alignment with another floor. One higher up than she needed. Bloody hell. She’d have to walk past him. 

“We kissed. Clearly you were just proving a point,” she grumbled, not looking at him as she moved to walk down the staircase and to the new landing. 

He followed down and tried not to roll his eyes. “Well yeah, but obviously it was more than that, you came after me in a broom closet, and brought up the first one. We failed at a spell we should be more than capable of, and we really need to finish that spell,” he said. Yes, it was easier to focus on something that wasn’t attraction between them.

A slight scoff left her at that and she shook her head. “Clearly we’re just tired. That’s it. It wasn’t anything, Malfoy. I came looking for you to continue working on it,” she lied easily enough, that blush slowly cooling in her cheeks. No, it wasn’t and couldn’t be attraction. That ship had sailed long ago.

“If you’re sure,” he sighed, not following her. There was no point if she was being honest, and he didn’t plan on testing it after earlier.

At that she took in a breath and then spun around. “Why did you kiss me, Malfoy? To prove a point, sure, but why not just state something with your usual bluster rather than….” she could feel her cheeks filling with blush again. Damn it. 

“Why did you kiss me?” He asked in return.

“Are you going to answer all of my questions with a question?” She countered, her arms wrapping around herself a little. She felt far too self conscious about this conversation. 

Draco perked a brow. “Just that one, really,” he said nonchalantly. 

Hermione took in a slow breath. “Answer mine and I’ll answer yours,” she stated simply. Less of an avoidance than it could have been.

“I guess we’re at an impasse then,” he said simply.

It took a lot of self control not to snap at him at that point but she gave a nod of her head. “Guess we are...After we both rest we’ll try again on the spells,” she murmured, turning away to start down the hall again but she paused, mulling something over. 

“Alright,” he said resigned. When she turned, he made his way in the other direction. There was no point in fighting it, rest was the best way to go about it. He wasn’t going to crowd her. 

“...Don’t..” she started and then took in a slow breath. 

He paused.

This would be admitting a bit more than she wanted to without really saying anything. But it had to be done, didn’t it? “Don’t kiss me again if you intend to find someone else after the fact. It’s not flattering and I was starting to think better of you than that,” she murmured just loud enough to be heard before she started to walk down the hall.   
Turning, he met her gaze and gave a nod. “I wasn’t looking for Parkinson,” he said, though why he was even admitting such a thing, he couldn’t quite say. In fact, it was quite the contrary, but he had already said more than he should have.

Looking over her shoulder at him she actually lifted a brow. “Didn’t look like you were leaving that broom closet though either,” she stated simply with a shrug of her shoulders. “It...ultimately doesn’t matter….” she murmured. 

It wasn’t like he was going to want to kiss her again. Not like he would kiss her again. 

Of course that was a simple way of putting it, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to explain himself. “I guess it doesn’t,” he murmured. It was crazy. Not for lack of a desire to kiss her again, but they were who they were. Still his gaze had lingered the slightest bit on those lips before looking up to meet her gaze. 

“So tomorrow then?” he said simply.

She caught it. That look. And it made that blush hit her cheeks again as she gave a nod of her head. “Tomorrow,” she agreed and let her gaze linger on him for just a moment. “...Have a good night, Draco,” she murmured. 

It had been ages since she had said his given name out loud. Before he could question that, she turned back around and strode down the hall, turning the corner so she could make her way back to the portrait to their common room. She needed a hot bath and to go pass out. 

When she was around the corner, he sighed. His hand moving down his face as he tried to keep himself in check. “Goodnight, Hermione,” he murmured, though she had been long gone. He’d give her a moment, let her settle before joining. The last thing he needed was another moment alone with her.


	16. Hogsmeade Trip

Hermione had not gotten any return letter from Harry or Ron about meeting her in Hogsmeade, but she assumed that they forgot to reply. They always had to write things in their planners and then forgot to do them anyway. With everything going on, she had nearly forgotten the Hogsmeade trip herself. The journals would be ready to show McGonagall on Monday after classes and she felt rather pleased with the accomplishment...even if she’d been avoiding Malfoy outside of their mandatory patrols and classwork. 

Something that he seemed more than happy to oblige. The pair of them had hardly seen each other beyond necessary.

After handing out assignments to the prefects, they had begun working on making that first round of monitoring so they could go their separate ways. They hadn’t made it past the fountain that voices could be heard as they walked.

“...You think it’s true?” a younger year had asked her friend, not discreet in the least.

“I heard Bellatrix carved her arm…”

“What does it say?” a third voice asked in awe.

“I heard it was supposed to mimic the Mark,” a fourth voice almost hissed his whisper.

Hermione barely managed to not start rubbing at her arm, actually looking a little pale, but she was trying to ignore it. As long as no one got bold enough to try and ask her directly, they could have all the gossip they wanted. It wasn’t like she was going to wear any sort of short sleeved anything for quite some time. 

“Shh, she’s there…”

“We could ask her…”

“You ask her!”

“I heard he’s still a you know…”

“Maybe she has Stockholm Syndrome, wasn’t she kept at his…”

Draco nudged her further up the street, a hand on his wand as he fought the desire to curse those little shits. He was beyond livid, but he couldn’t act on it. “You should go meet your friends or whatever,” he motioned to the Three Broomsticks. “I’ll try not to curse any students,” he half joked.

Hermione had half a mind to shout them down honestly, but she gave a nod of her head. “Thank you,” she offered with a small smile, though it was clear that she wasn’t fully involved in that smile. “...Ignore them. They’ve been gossiping about it since term began,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes and another half-hearted smile. 

Striding ahead of him towards the pub, she had her hands tucked into her pockets so she wouldn’t start rubbing at her arm. It was a slippery slope to rubbing at her arm to clawing at her arm and she wasn’t about to get to that point again.

Once she entered the Three Broomsticks though, she didn’t see her friends anywhere. Looking around the room she saw Luna and Ginny playing a game of Exploding Snap with Neville and Seamus, very fitting, and noticed Hannah with the Patil twins. But she didn’t see Ron or Harry anywhere. 

Madam Rosmerta waved her over, an envelope in her hand, and offered a smile. “Ms. Granger. You just missed an owl from Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. The owl is in the owlery for your return message,” she offered with a small smile. 

The brunette offered her thanks and took the envelope, going out towards the owlery with it as she went. Training had them tied up, they wouldn’t be able to arrive today, or likely tomorrow either. Harry said he’d be sending something to make up for it tomorrow but that he would like her to send back the map. Clearly he was concerned about not having it. 

Picking up a quill, and going over to Pigwidgeon, she carefully attacked a small note and the map in an envelope to send back to them. Petting the owl affectionately, she sent it on its way with a soft sigh. So much for that part of her day.

Malfoy hadn’t even bothered with the Three Broomsticks. Avoiding Madam Rosmerta seemed rather smart after what he’d done to her. If he wanted to be insulted, he’d have a pint with a Weasley.

Instead he’d gone to one of the shops, only to find himself taking a seat outside the shrieking shack when he was exhausted of hearing the whispers.

Hermione found herself wandering through the little village, though the whispers started up all over again. It wasn’t surprising really, but after ducking into Honeydukes to get herself a few more sugar quills, she made her way towards the little fence outside of the shrieking shack. 

Seeing Malfoy there though, she paused and actually chewed at her bottom lip. They hadn’t really been around each other outside working on the journals and other school work...but this was one of the most private places in Hogsmeade while a trip was going on. 

For a while he just looked at the broken home ahead of him. It still had shivers run through his spine. It reminded him of Fenrir, and of all the people he had come across, it was the one he had despised the most.

“Come to gl-,” he began and noticed it wasn’t some kid about to try and rile him up. “Oh,” he softened ever so slightly. “Where are your friends?” he asked.

“They’ve been whispering things about you all day too, huh?” She murmured, shifting the small bag of sweets in her hand as she strode over to the fence and leaned against it, looking out at the shrieking shack. Everything changed there in third year….

He bit his lower lip. “After last year, you’d think they’d at least be smart about it,” he bit at his lip and sighed.

“Couldn’t make it. More training. They sent Ron’s owl for the map....Seems to be my luck lately,” she murmured without looking at him, simply looking out at the building. 

That must have been harsh. “Your luck?” he asked.

“It seems to be increasingly bad lately,” she murmured, trying to make light of it even as she ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to sound light hearted. “It hasn’t affected our work at least.” At least not their school work. 

Draco watched her for a moment, though he wanted to ask, all he could think was that he was the bad luck she was referring to. Being beside her at every turn hadn’t exactly been his idea of a pleasant way to spend the year. Truth be told, he didn't’ hate it half as much as he pretended to. For once, he had a partner that held their share of the work, someone with a keen mind to not only bounce ideas off of, but expand them. It made for a promising year ahead. At least when the chatter wasn’t constantly surrounding them. A monster and a victim. Though she was the latter, he knew better than to treat her as such. She was strong, stronger than she looked.

“I know the feeling,” he muttered.

A small smile curved her lips. “...Sorry if it’s worse because I’m around,” she murmured slightly, half rubbing at her arm again. It wasn’t his fault. It was his aunt’s. 

Even when she saw him during the battle at Hogwarts, she hadn’t felt like it was his fault. The only one to blame was Bellatrix and if she hadn’t had Ginny and Luna at her side during her fight against his aunt she might have frozen. But she couldn’t let either of them get hurt like that, hurt like she was hurt. 

That statement caught him off guard. “It’s not,” he murmured. “You can stay,” his voice was quiet.

“I appreciate it,” she murmured, starting to absently rub at her arm. “Not a lot of students come near the shack still…”

“Can’t really blame them.” He looked at the shack, even with many knowing the truth about it, there was something almost taboo about it. “Not exactly inviting either,” he shrugged. As his arms crossed his thumb discreetly smoothed over the lingerings of the Dark Mark that still marred his skin.

“It’s worse inside,” she murmured as she looked at the shack, her fingers rubbing up and down her forearm against the scar. 

As he avoided looking up at her he noted how she rubbed at her arm. “We should probably head back,” he said gently. He was ready to head back.

“Probably,” she murmured just as gently, but she made no move to push away from the fence. She wanted to wait a bit longer. The hissed whispers about her arm and about her damage nearly made her jinx a few students already. 

He waited a few moments before finally standing. With a last look at the house he turned his attention towards the village. Main street wasn’t too far, back to the hustle and bustle of locals and students.

“We can add the finishing touches on the journals when we get in,” he offered. It was easier to focus on work than whispers. At least the former was tangible. 

“I suppose that’s as good a way as any to spend my birthday,” she murmured off hand before she pushed away from the fence, turning around to walk back towards the main street. 

It was a statement that caught him off guard, though he made no motion to react to it. So this was the day Hermione Granger was born, and her two supposed best friends couldn’t even arse themselves to show. Deeply, it bothered him. Wherever they had stood in school, in life, even he wasn’t that cruel, or perhaps the past year had made him realize cruelty wasn’t something he enjoyed.

“I suppose you can have the bath first then, birthday and all,” he shrugged. Who got to use the Olympic sized pool had been the source of many a disagreement since their taking over of the tower.

A slight laugh, only a note of humor there, left her. “Thanks...birthday’s tomorrow,” she murmured with a bit of a sigh. But the fact that she’d get to get it first was actually comforting. 

Oddly, he made a mental note of it. What he was going to do with that information wasn’t quite clear. It would become part of that trivia he seemed to never quite manage to shake. September nineteenth. It felt like they’d been in school longer than that. Still, he shrugged and marched forward, hands in his pockets to avoid giving anything of himself away to anyone as he clutched the hilt of his wand as if it could ground him.

Sliding the bag of sweets up her arm, she tucked her own hands into her pockets as she strode along after him, moving quickly enough to catch back up with him. At least they could make it look like another patrol of the village. That way when people started the trek back to the castle they’d be able to notice any stragglers. 

As they walked he looked at the buildings around. Though he’d seen them more times than he remembered, there was something new to them. After so much destruction, nothing should have felt recognizable, yet it seemed like every last crooked roof was exactly as it had been.

The wizarding world as a whole was doing a great job of covering things up, making it seem like the war wasn’t as bad as it had been. It could have been a lot worse, but that didn’t make it bad. Before she could completely get her bearings, a third year actually darted over to the pair of them while her friends watched on with a bit of shock and awe. 

“Excuse me. You’re Hermione Granger, right?” She asked and as Hermione nodded before she could actually say anything to the third year girl she continued on. “Is it true that you got scarred during the war? Is it a shape like Harry Potter’s?”

The question actually shocked the brunette and made her grow rather pale as she cleared her throat. “Nothing like Harry’s scar. Far less interesting. But if you and your friends keep gossiping like that...you’re going to wind up with detention...or worse,” she murmured ominously. 

Draco looked at the girl making such ridiculous requests. “Ten points from Hufflepuff,” he said. “I’ll double it for every idiot that asks anyone that actually fought in the battle stupid unwarranted questions, got it?” he demanded.

The young girl actually looked startled by the docking of points and the rebuke from the brunette. “I...Yes,” she murmured, glancing between the two of them before she darted back to her friends rather quickly. 

Hermione let out a slow sigh with a roll of her eyes. “...Why they feel the need to ask such questions I’ll never know,” she grumbled. 

“I can think of a few publications that have strived on just that,” he reminded, obviously annoyed by the gall of students. That was excluding Rita Skeeter’s books which she seemed more than prolific on. Of course, she didn’t care for facts, so he guessed that did make it easier to fill the blanks. If he was going to be feared, he didn’t mind pushing it. 

“Fair,” she murmured as she sighed with a shake of her head. The trip to the village would be over in just another hour or so. At least they wouldn’t have to be this close to the rest of the student body for long. 

As they made their way through Main Street, looking around at the various students and wizards around, they remained fairly quiet. Every once in a while they discussed classes and projects, but mainly they seemed to enjoy the respite.


	17. Birthday Blues

The morning of her birthday was spent in her room away from everyone. Ginny was preparing for their quidditch match, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw, and didn’t expect to see her. Luna was giving support and Neville was following Luna around lately. While everyone seemed to have something of their own to attend to, she wasn’t even going to be getting packages from her parents this year, which added to her growing melancholy.

It was early afternoon by the time she left her room to go sit in their common room, debating on getting something to eat. She smiled just a little bit. There was a box on the table with the familiar writing from Mrs. Weasley, along with a few small boxes. One had Hagrid’s familiar scroll on it and she couldn’t help but chuckle. It was half tempting to go and see him for her birthday. 

Taking a seat at the table, she opened Mrs. Weasley’s box first. It was filled with sweets and little meat pies. Clearly Mrs. Weasley still was trying to get her to eat. She’d nibble at them later. There were rock cakes from Hagrid, which she planned on getting rid of as carefully as possible, and then there was a beautiful new quill and journal from Harry. Ron’s gift was a new bookmark and then there were a few small items from Weasley Wizard Wheezes. One of the patented daydream charms, extendable ears, Twilight Moonlight, some bonbons, and some darkness powder. Alright, then. 

Among the boxes was another one. One with no note or scrawl to recognize. Though small and black, it had a sleekness to it. Inside a sharp looking quill rested atop a leather journal, various European chocolates and bonbons individually wrapped filling the void in the box.

That unmarked box and the rather ornate looking quill had her attention. Pulling out the leather journal, she let her fingers trace over it as she sank into the seat there and enjoyed the smell of a new leather journal. She’d use Harry’s for spell work and ideas while this one she had a feeling would be more for personal use. It was perfect. 

Draco came in through the portrait, having gotten out early morning while the castle was still quiet. Most students had slept in after a night of sugar rushes and excitement from visiting Hogsmeade. He’d wanted to drop off the fruits of their labor to the Headmistress’s office before handling a few things.

“You’re up,” he said in greeting, sinking on a nearby armchair.

“Good afternoon,” she murmured back to him with a small smile, though she reached into the box and pulled out one of the bonbons, unwrapping it and popping it into her mouth. Perfect. 

He grabbed a book and started reading it. “Looks like you had quite a few owls.”

She nodded her head as she continued to flip through the leather journal. “One from Hagrid, I have to get rid of the cakes, one from Mrs. Weasley, one from Harry, and one from Ronald,” she murmured with a small smile.

He nodded unsure what to really say. It seemed the boys of the trio had redeemed themselves though they wouldn’t be around. “What about your parents?”

That question almost made her fidget with a sigh. “...My parents aren’t around right now,” she admitted honestly and tried to shrug with a small smile without looking up. It hurt. She hadn’t had the chance to try and get them yet. 

“Oh,” he responded quietly, not having wanted to strike a nerve. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, his cheeks lightly flushed. He hadn’t wanted to add to her feeling bad. 

She nodded her head and cleared her throat. “...I didn’t want them getting hurt during the war…” she murmured lightly and then reached for another bonbon, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth to keep her from saying more. 

So they weren’t dead which was good. He knew the Dark Lord had looked for them, but had never found them. “I see,” he responded gently. He understood that. Family had always been very important to the Malfoy household. “They’re safe then?”

“I think so. I modified their memories before helping Harry,” she murmured. There wasn’t a reason that they shouldn’t be. They had the means to have a decent life in Australia. She’d just have to track them down once she was done with school.

Draco nodded. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how to respond or if there was anything he could say. Instead, he bit his lip lightly. “So what did you get?” he asked. That seemed easier.

A small smile curved her lips. That was something she could answer. “Two quills, two journals, rock cakes from Hagrid, a cake and some meat pies from Mrs. Weasley,” she murmured with a shake of her head. “Some bonbons, and several things from Weasley Wizard Wheezes...I can’t tell if they’re from Ron or from George.”

“Seems people know what you like,” he chuckled at the double quills and journals. It appeared some things never changed. 

“It seems so...but one box didn’t have a note,” she murmured with a shake of her head. 

“No note huh,” he shrugged. Of course he knew who it was from, but he wasn’t about to say so.

She shook her head. If this had been sixth year she might have been worried. But the security on packages in and out of Hogwarts stayed secured. “No. But the journal they sent was...fantastic,” she murmured as she looked down at the leather bound journal in her lap. 

He glanced over. “That’s nice,” he said with a nod. “Hopefully the quill and the rest was too,” he said stretching.

At that she blinked and glanced up at him. “I didn’t say that this journal came with a quill.”

“I was sure you did,” he shrugged, slowly getting up. An out, he needed to find one. “I should... go to the library,” he finished lamely.

“I didn’t,” she murmured as she kept her gaze on him for a moment or two. “...Did you get me the journal, the quill, and the candy?”

Draco parted his lips to speak, faltering a few times. “I...might have,” he sighed. “Yesterday you mentioned...I…”

There was a bit of shock in her expression but she smiled just a little bit. “Thank you….you didn’t have to do that...but I appreciate it,” she murmured, her fingers tracing over the spine of the book. 

“It’s fine,” he assured her. He’d also talked to the elves in the kitchens, but that he could easily deny.

Hermione half wanted to hug him to thank him, but she was trying not to crowd him. How was it that they were actually becoming friends? “Still,” she murmured but rather than continue on that line of thinking she smiled a little bit more. “I’m sort of surprised you aren’t at the quidditch game.”

“I might catch the next one,” he shrugged. Quidditch just hadn’t meant the same to him as it had before.

“Fair,” she murmured as she sighed. “Do we need to go and see McGonagall?” 

“Already brought her the journals for her to look over,” he said gently. 

“Oh...Thank you. You could have gotten me to go with you,” she murmured. 

“I was up,” he shrugged. “You were asleep.” He wasn’t about to wake her up on her birthday.

That made her smile a little bit more. “...Thank you,” she murmured before she flipped through the journal that he got her and couldn’t help but feel rather touched. It was perfect. As was the quill if she was honest. 

“You’re welcome.” He paused. “I should probably…” he started, wanting to get out before he couldn’t. As he began making his way to the portrait, it opened, a couple of elves making their way in. One he recognized as Kreacher barking orders to the two that carefully hovered a cake that was far too big to be for one person.

As the portrait opened she blinked a few times and then covered her mouth with both hands in surprise. Her eyes grew wide and she took in a slow breath as she dropped her hands. “Kreacher? What are you doing?”  
“Miss has a birthday does she not?” he asked in that raspy demanding tone of his. “A cake is in order,” he added, sending the elves to deposit the large mint frosted cake, every rose colored macaron and frosted flowers perfectly in place as it was set down. Sugar butterflies flapped their wings between the candy pearls and blush and mint colored macarons around. Gold flake highlights glistening here and there. Obviously great care had been put into the cake.

“I wasn’t expecting anything like this though,” she murmured as the cake was set down. It looked _almost_ too perfect to eat. And there was no way that she’d be able to eat it all on her own. “Thank you, Kreacher,” she murmured with a small smile. 

Kreacher gave a bow of his head, though not as low as the other two elves. A squeaked Happy Birthday was said, before the trio scurried off.

As the elves left, she just stared at the cake in front of her, unsure whether to laugh or cry if she was honest. If she wanted, she could smuggle in Ginny, Luna, and Neville, but they were all going to be at the quidditch match and there was never any telling how long one of the matches would last. 

“Looks like you have this...under control,” he said, slowly making his way towards the portrait.

She actually chuckled. “...Sort of. I doubt I can finish even a quarter of this on my own,” she murmured as she glanced over at him and paused. “Do you want a piece?”

Draco had expected a number of things, but being invited to her birthday, even if just through a piece of cake offered, was something he wouldn’t have dreamed in a million years. “You want me...to stay?” he asked.

“...We’re at the very least becoming friends, Draco,” she murmured, attempting to brush off any meaning at all to this. 

Friends. “Alright,” he took a tentative step forward. “I suppose I can accept a slice.”

Rather than relying on magic, Hermione used the knife that had been left with the cake and cut a slice of it and put it on a plate for him and did the same for herself. Clearly this would work well enough as something to eat and she could forget about the sandwiches…right?

“Normally people eat cake before they open their presents,” he said, taking a seat with his slice. “Or is that a…thing...” he wasn’t sure he could use the M word. 

“Well, I didn’t know I was getting a cake. But no...that’s not a Muggle thing,” she answered, knowing what he might have said. She didn’t mind the word Muggle or Muggleborn. It was the other M word that she couldn’t stand. 

“I see,” he murmured, plucking a macaron from his slice and taking a bite of it. 

She picked up a macaron and took a bite with a soft hum of appreciation. It was perfect. The light reddish pink macaron tasted like roses and something she couldn’t name at the moment. 

For a moment he merely nibbled at his pistachio flavored cookie and enjoyed the sweet treat. “So any plans?” He asked. “We could reroute a few prefects if you wanted some time.”

“Well, the only plans I had were for yesterday...and they didn’t exactly pan out,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders and a small smile. 

“Today is a different day,” he reminded gently. “New plans maybe.”

Hermione considered that as she took another bite of the sweet treat. “And what would you do? If it was your birthday,” she murmured curiously. 

He hadn’t really expected the question turned on him. “A few years ago? There’d have been a party,” he said simply. “This year? Probably a good book, a quiet place,” he shrugged. He wasn’t getting any favors this year, he was quite certain of it.

A small smile curved her lips. “If I hadn’t read everything on my shelf at least three times I might have gotten a new book...and with all the homework I’ve wanted a brief break from the academics of it all.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said simply, taking another bite of cake. It was delicate and yet filled with flavor.

She took a bite of her cake as well and then shrugged slightly. “Maybe.” Hermione wasn’t the one that came up with a lot of ideas without a plan involved and honestly the most she might do was spend time with her cat...once she figured out where Crookshanks got off to again. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the princess of Gryffindor? Shouldn’t they be lifting you on a chair and just breaking half a dozen rules to celebrate you?” he asked. Honestly, were Gryffindors really this dull?

A bit of a laugh left her at that and she actually blushed slightly. “Is that actually what people call me? I knew about the Golden Trio….I didn’t realize people called me the princess of Gryffindor.”

He eyed her. Of course like most titles granted the trio, it had begun mockingly. Rather than use words he merely nodded. 

“Huh. Guess that explains why so many people seem concerned about me patrolling with the prince of Slytherin,” she murmured before taking a bite of cake. 

A bit of a chuckle escaped him at that. “People do fear the monarchy,” he shrugged.

“Apparently they do,” she said with a chuckle. This was nicer than she would have expected. 

Having polished the cake off his plate, he set it down on the table and leaned back. As much as he’d wanted to bail, he wasn’t minding this.

She was still nibbling at her cake and it was only about half way gone, paying more attention to the cookies and giving away, perhaps, just how little it was she ate. 

“...Thank you, Draco.” It was as unexpected to her as it likely was to him, but she couldn’t help it. He was actually being kind. 

“What are you thanking me for this time?” he asked. She’d already done so for his gift. He hadn’t actually admitted to the cake, so now he was confused. “Not that you need a reason,” he drawled.

Ah, there was that Malfoy attitude. “I was going to thank you for not letting me be alone on my birthday but I’m half tempted to take it back now,” she drawled back at him with a raised brow. 

“You’re welcome,” he said gently. He couldn’t completely flip off the switch could he?

Hermione considered him for a moment, like she might still snap at him, but after another bite of cake, she nodded her head with a faint smile and slid the plate aside. At least all of the cake was gone now. 

“So,” he said gently. “Guess we should figure out something else to do for your birthday, since we’re…friends.”

“I suppose we should...It’s odd hearing that out loud, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Maybe we shouldn’t say it too loudly.” He looked at her, a conflict apparent in his silver gaze.

She lightly chewed at her bottom lip, looking at him before she glanced down at her hand on the table. “Still care what people think?”

Draco looked at her in confusion. “If you enjoy accusations of Stockholm Syndrome and being under the Imperius curse, I suppose I can’t deny you that, birthday and all,” he drawled with a light shrug of his shoulders.

Hermione rolled her eyes at that. “Considering I didn’t see you much at all when I was in your house I could refute it if I wanted to. It’s none of their business. They already ask to see the scar whenever they can,” she muttered. 

“We both know that,” he murmured, looking down. “We both know how out of control the rumor mill gets.”

“We are. But we know and that’s what matters,” she said simply with a shrug. It was different from her friendship with Luna but similar when it came to dealing with rumors. These rumors were just more.

He looked at her. “Until it becomes Skeeter fodder,” he shrugged. He knew how bad that could get from experience. 

A bit of a smile curved her lips. “Skeeter won’t be causing us any problems,” she murmured, having to hold back a laugh. 

What she meant by it, he couldn’t say, but she seemed to have an answer for everything. Of course his parents would surely have something to say about it, but he could always play it off as nothing more than a means to an end. “Alright, so where to?” he asked.

“Could go down by the lake. It should be quiet since most everyone will be at the game,” she murmured as she stood up, offering him her hand to help him up. 

Draco looked at her hand a moment before catching those chocolate hues. Slowly, he reached for it, his fingers brushing hers.

No sooner had their fingers touched, the door to the common room opened, the portrait ceding way to the Headmistress. In her arms were the journals Draco had dropped off to her office, a look of approval in her gaze that shifted for one of confusion as she noticed them so close, the cake in the background.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked in that demanding quip she held.

Draco straightened and pulled away. “Nothing,” the word came out faster than he wanted it to. It took a few seconds to recompose himself. “It’s Granger’s birthday,” he added lamely.

Hermione turned around to face McGonagall and had her hands almost tuck into her pockets. “Not at all, Headmistress. Just sharing my cake with Malfoy,” she murmured, falling back to his last name as he had with her. 

“Well that’s...nice to hear,” she murmured looking between the pair. “I came to tell you I was impressed with the journals.” McGonagall motioned to the journals in her arms. “It’s great work, and I want it implemented by next weekend,” she said. “And happy birthday, Miss Granger.”

“Of course, Headmistress. Thank you,” she murmured with a smile, stepping forward to take the journals so they could work on distributing them. 

Draco nodded, silently taking the journals before Hermione could. “We’ll work on it starting tomorrow,” he murmured.

“Excellent. Well...good afternoon to you both,” she stated calmly with a nod before leaving to join the rest of the faculty at the quidditch game.


	18. Conflicted Feelings

_She has Stockholm Syndrome._

_He’s weak for befriending one of HER kind._

_He left that scar on her._

_Maybe he Imperiused her._

_Where is the scar on her? Does she have the Mark and not a scar?_

_She has to be using potions to get so many guys to like her…_

Draco had always been used to rumors, but none quite like this. And none that had the same effect on him as hearing the slanderous lies spewed against them left and right. When Pansy had come to make comments he’d had half a mind to choke her. It was why he had asked Hermione to meet him in the Room of Requirement to explore their friendship, without the added commentary.

While the “golden girl” of Gryffindor house was used to gossip being spread about her, she was starting to get irritated by it. She was curious about what it was Draco wanted to talk about exactly. Maybe just how this friendship of theirs was going to work when everyone seemed to hate that they were friends. 

The last thing Hermione expected as she left the Great Hall from lunch with Ginny was for someone to follow her, but here she was. 

“Cormac, I’ve told you. I...I don’t need an escort through the school. I’m perfectly fine,” she tried once again to convince him as they moved up the staircase. 

“See me more as...pleasant company,” he grinned. “Did you see the Quidditch match last weekend? I was...amazing, as always.”

“Can’t say that I did. Congratulations on becoming Keeper for the team, though,” she offered with a shake of her head. “I would really prefer not having company though…”

All he could hear was her praise, the rest was insignificant. “Thank you,” he grinned. “It’s nice to be back on the team,” he said. “You should come to practice sometime, we could hang out after…

“I’m fine, Cormac. I’d really prefer not to. Far too busy with school and patrols,” she said, attempting at a light rebuke once again. 

“Exactly why you should, take some time to...enjoy,” he said. “Plus, I’ll be there,” he draped an arm around over her shoulders.

Shrugging his arm off of her shoulders she cleared her throat. “I’d prefer not to. I enjoy my free time enough, thank you,” she retorted, starting to sound just a little bit sharper. It was a lie, her free time was usually coping with what was in her head, but it was fine. 

Draco had waited exactly six minutes before following after Hermione. There shouldn’t have been too many students out and about, but when he got to the hallway as planned, things weren’t as he had anticipated. Instead of a door, he had found the Gryffindor fighting off McLaggen. Joy.

“I’m sure I can make it more enjoyable for you,” he pressed on, not even seeming to mind that he had his arm brushed off of her shoulders. 

Hearing McLaggen had Draco want to gag, but he gave his friend a look. Had this been something she wanted? After Ron, and Krum, he couldn’t exactly say the boy wasn’t her type. Still, he didn’t want to assume.

Hermione glanced past McLaggen and actually had a slightly pleading look on her face before she looked up at the rather bold Gryffindor. “I can’t say I’m all that interested in going on dates with any of the guys I’ve been on dates with, Cormac. I’m sure you have many fans of your Quidditch skills that would be eager for a date.”

At that look he walked forward. “There you are,” he told her before glancing at McLaggen as though he were looking at flobberworm feed.

“Hello, Malfoy,” she greeted calmly, keeping that bit of distance just in case that was what he wanted out of their conversation in the Room of Requirement. 

McLaggen glanced between the two with a bit of a frown. “Taking up with the company of serpents, Hermione?” He drawled. 

“Head Boy and Head Girl duties, Cormac. I did attempt to get you not to follow me.”

“You can leave now,” Malfoy told the other boy. 

McLaggen glanced between the two of them and seemed to narrow his eyes at Malfoy before offering one more charming smile to Granger. “If you need anything, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me,” he said with a grin before he sauntered off. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Polishing your underperforming broom,” he muttered before looking at the brunette. He couldn’t quite grasp why he was frustrated at that moment. “Shall we then...before I have to save you from another moron?”

Hermione tried not to snicker at that but cleared her throat and brushed her hair back out of her face as she nodded her head. “We should...Never know who might come out of the woodwork.” Or broom closets, though she supposed that was unkind. 

After pacing the corridor three times, a door opened onto a lavish study type room. A plump emerald settee with golden accented cushions sat before a roaring fireplace. Books lined the walls. A table against the wall covered in canapes and various finger foods alongside carafes of pumpkin juice and tea.

A smile curved her lips as she strode into the room, letting the door close behind them as she moved to take a seat and brush her hair back from her face. “Thank you. I didn’t think Cormac would ever leave.”

“It’s why he’s decent as a keeper, doesn’t know how to quit,” he shrugged.

“I suppose you can see it that way,” she responded as she let her bag drop to the floor and let out a sigh. “I just wish he’d take the hint so I don’t have to be actively mean. I already have to not be too mean to the younger students.”

At that he laughed a bit, taking a seat on the settee, and just taking a moment. “I can ask Pansy what she did,” he shrugged. Of course, whatever that was, he doubted Hermione wanted to use one of those tactics. They probably involved blackmail for starters, which wasn’t exactly the Gryffindor way.

“Cormac was attempting to do something to Parkinson? And he lived?” She asked with a bit of a raised brow. Now, that was impressive. 

Malfoy met her gaze. “Apparently,” he said gently. 

“Unfortunate. I might have actually had to thank Parkinson if he disappeared though. Not sure which prospect is worse….” she replied with the hint of a smile. 

At that he couldn’t help but shake his head. “Just when a vanishing cabinet could be useful,” he smirked.

A slight chuckle left her at that but then she sighed and shrugged. “It can’t be helped I suppose.”

“Has he always been so forward with you?”

“Ever since he decided to set his sights on me,” she muttered with a slight wrinkle of her nose. 

He looked at her. Honestly, he couldn’t blame him there. “When was that?”

She had to consider it before she sighed. “Sixth year. Had one date with him. Regretted it immediately,” she admitted with a sigh.

“You actually dated him? No wonder he’s so persistent,” he couldn’t help but pull a bit of a face. Honestly, as much as Ron was no catch in his book, he was rather shocked to learn that she had been on a date with McLaggen.

“It was just to a Slug Club party...and I ditched him rather quickly. Trust me, it was not my finest hour,” she said with a soft groan as simply, relaxed. How was it almost soothing to be around him?

The party he had been escorted out from. “Ah,” he sounded, not sure he wanted to talk about it. It definitely wasn’t her finest hour.

“Yeah. I’ve made it abundantly clear I’m not interested,” she sighed softly and actually shrugged her shoulders. Not that Draco needed to know any of this, but it was getting easier to talk to him as time went on. 

“Some people don’t take no for an answer,” he said, the statement coming from a place of understanding.

A sigh left her at that. “Sadly. I have a feeling that he’s going to try to keep getting me to date him.”

“Did he ever stop?” he asked.

“Considering I haven’t seen him in a year, I hoped the fascination had stopped." She could barely hold back a groan as she spoke the words. Damn McLaggen. 

That was a rough spot to be in. “Good luck with that,” he said, though a few thoughts popped into his mind to help without overtly doing so.

Hermione nodded her head with a small smile. “Thank you, I think I’ll need it,” she almost chuckled before she finally looked up at him. “What did you want to talk about exactly?”

He looked at her and blinked. “Oh..” he felt the slightest heat to his cheeks. “I just...we’ve been gaining a lot of attention lately, figured this would be...different...more private,” he admitted. It was more complicated than that. He had to maintain some level of composure to avoid intervention from his parents.

At that she blinked and nodded her head slightly, fiddling with a strand of hair. “I...see. Worried it’ll get back home that you’re making friends with a Muggle-born?” Hermione wasn’t stupid. She knew that his family wouldn’t exactly react favorably to them getting along. The only “good” thing that Mr. Malfoy might find was that the pair of them were tied for marks for once. 

“It’s more complicated than that,” he said trying to find the best way to express the myriad of thoughts in his mind. Though the war had ended, and his family had turned a new page, some things would never truly change. They still had expectations, his path was still, for the most part paved for him. “Though it’s probably the simplest way to explain it,” he forced a smile. 

“I can handle complicated, Draco,” she stated simply and gave him a pointed look. She had hunted all over the UK for fragments of Voldemort’s soul, this couldn’t be more complicated than that. 

He smirked and looked at the fire instead. “My life would be on a very different path if I hadn’t returned to Hogwarts. When I say it’s complicated, I’m not challenging your comprehension skills.” He wasn’t quite certain he had the words right then to express himself.

Looking at him she considered that a moment before she nodded her head with a sigh and got up to go and get one of the finger sandwiches and a cup of tea. “I won’t pry then.”

Only one person had offered him that space in his life, and it had him speechless a while longer. His gaze followed as she walked over to the table. As much as he wanted to eat, his stomach was in too much of a twist. 

She put the finger sandwich, only one, on a small little plate and poured herself a cup of tea. As she sipped the tea she glanced back at him and blinked slightly as he watched her. 

“What?” She asked with a bit of surprise. 

Draco averted his gaze a moment before looking up again. “I…” he started. “Thank you,” he said. It wasn’t something he said often.

That even floored Hermione. She hadn’t even been able to count on one hand the number of times he’d said that to her before this year. “I...well, you’re welcome.”

Enough people had poked and prodded at the two of them. She could offer him some respite and not go prodding. 

Only one person in the school could sit with him without prying, and now, he felt perhaps there was another. Unexpected, and yet welcome.

“So would you prefer to limit our more casual interactions to our common room or here? Just with all of it going on?” She wouldn’t pry but she needed to know whether or not they needed to back off which felt weird. 

He nodded. “Just for a while,” he said. It was complicated. 

She nodded her head, starting to nibble at the sandwich she selected, still not eating nearly what she should be. “If you think that’s best then alright.”

As much relief as he felt in that moment, another feeling crept up he hadn’t felt in a while. “I’ll explain someday,” he offered lamely. Why was he even bothering to justify it?

“I’ll hold you to that, Draco,” she said simply with a small smile as she moved to sit back down next to him and sighed softly. This year was harder than anticipated. 

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” he chuckled. “So still friends?” he asked. It was odd, but he also wasn’t one to just take things at face value.

“Yeah. We’re still friends. It’d be odd if we weren’t.” There were only a few things that would make her reconsider friendship with him and he hadn’t gone there. 

At least he hadn’t made her an enemy again. Even then, he couldn’t say that had ever been accurate. Not truthfully. “A year ago we might have said the opposite,” he said thoughtfully. Reaching for his wand he summoned a cup of tea forward, not quite wanting to stand.

“A year ago I might have thought you were trying to kill me, Draco. Or bring me to… _him_ ,” she murmured with a bit of a shudder. She didn’t blame him, not really. 

He paused, taking a moment to sip his tea. “For the record, I didn’t attempt to do either of those things... not really,” he shrugged.

Hermione sighed. “I know you didn’t. You could have told them that it was Harry under that jinx I put on him but you didn’t. I al-....You’re...I’m glad you didn’t. Thank you,” She finished lamely. There were two things that she shouldn’t say that she had gotten dangerously close to. 

As she struggled he sipped on his tea, not wanting to put her on the spot, though it was hard to swallow it down at those two final words. “I’m not sure I deserve thanks either,” he couldn’t meet her gaze. 

“You deserve it. If you had answered the question, Voldemort would have been summoned earlier and we’d have been killed,” she tried to suppress the next shudder threatening to rack her body at the memories. Torture was a small price to pay to keep all of them alive. Even if the small part was a lie.

Anything to delay being in _his_ presence was fair game, but even he knew it had been more than that. “We’re here now,” he offered quietly. “That’s all that matters,” his voice barely above a soft whisper. 

All she did was nod and take another sip of her tea, needing to feel that warmth because inside she felt chilled to the bone. That night in Malfoy Manor still haunted her dreams. 

Sleep was still a luxury he didn’t get much of. Not without going back there. The potions he took seldom offered him more than a few hours at a time. It was the only way not to wake up screaming. 

“We should probably stick to other topics,” he offered, not wanting to fall down that rabbithole.

“True, but what to talk about,” she mused aloud. She had said that she wouldn’t pry, and that went for a lot of things that she wanted the answers to and did not want the answers to in equal measure. 

That was the million galleon question wasn’t it? “I hear the weather is a nice transition,” he offered with a cheeky expression.

A bit of a laugh left her at that and she shook her head. “It can be...Oh! I hear Slughorn is attempting to reform the Slug Club and start inviting people to some sort of Halloween party.”

“Wonder if he’ll snub me this year again,” he said lightly, settling his cup down to settle a hand on the cushion so he could settle more comfortably.

As she finished the one small sandwich, she put the plate down and sipped at her tea, the other hand settling on the cushion as she shrugged. “Probably not. Not with the image that McGonagall is wanting to get across.”

“Great, another forced appearance,” he sighed. “Guess you’ll have to contend with McLaggen there too,” he shuddered at the thought. That would be unfortunate. As he shifted his fingers brushed hers. Though rather than pull away he stilled.

“Hopefully he won’t be invited and I can avoid him this year. It’s that or find a date,” she said with a sigh and a shake of her head, though she was a little more stiff, not moving her hand away from his as her heart hammered in her chest a moment. 

A date. Somehow he didn’t really like that idea. Swallowing down he looked from their touching fingers and back up to keep eye contact. “He seems to dislike being around me, if you rather sulk in a corner,” he offered.

“I’m not one for sulking in corners much anymore,” she replied with a small smile, avoiding looking at their hands as she finally met his eyes again. They were such a lovely shade of grey, more silver. 

“They’d think you were my date otherwise.” The words were low, as though speaking them low would make his heart hammer less in his chest. Was the fire hot? With his free hand he released the knot of his tie slightly.

Hermione smiled just a bit and rolled her eyes. “Couldn’t have that. And they’d be mad to think so,” she half joked but there was a faint blush in her cheeks as she looked at him. Her heartbeat was becoming a roar in her ears that might have put an actual lion to shame.

“Bonkers,” he agreed, his own cheeks flushed. Despite it he leaned in the slightest bit. 

“Completely mental,” she nodded, though as he started to lean in her gaze dropped to his lips, the memory of that kiss coming to the front of her mind. She should move now...but she couldn’t bring herself to.

As her gaze fell to his lips he couldn’t help but look at hers. Were they always so pink? “Absolutely ludicrous,” he breathed, the tip of his nose brushing hers gently.

They were so close. She could feel his breath on her skin and rather than pull away, she leaned in. Closing the distance between them, her lips brushed his. It was like magnets. 

He couldn’t resist the warmth of her mouth, lips gently parting hers. In his chest, his heart hammered so hard, he couldn’t hear. 

Her fingers twined slightly with his as she held that kiss, closing her eyes as she let him lead it, surrendering a bit of control. He’d done such a good job kissing her before. It was hard to hear her own mental objections to why she shouldn’t do this over her beating heart. 

Without the fear of being walked in on, he gave into the desire that burned. While they kissed, he tangled his fingers with hers, his free hand rising to push away a few curls behind her ear. Had her locks always been so soft?

The brush of his fingers made her shiver slightly. It was tempting to move closer to him, to deepen the kiss further. Just as her lips started to part a bit more for him, she pulled back from the kiss. Her hand still in his and her cheeks a rather brilliant shade of red.

A color that was matched in his own cheeks. His eyes fluttered open, a bit of a guilt on his features, though he didn’t pull away this time. 

“We...Friends don’t just snog,” she reminded, attempting to convince herself that she needed to move, to get some distance from him again lest she was tempted to lean back in. Merlin, he was a good kisser.

“I mean…” he began and figured it probably wouldn’t be best to explain that friends could snog. “Probably right,” he pulled away to get his tea and take a sip. He felt parched. “Seems to be a recurring thing,” he pointed out, regretting it instantly.

That blush had started to cool as he pulled away but at that comment she winced and actually moved to get up, picking up her cup of tea and moved back over to pour herself more. “...It shouldn’t be. Especially not…” No. She wasn’t going to be mean or say anything else she’d regret. 

“Especially not what?” he asked, perking a brow as he glanced her way.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” she shrugged, keeping her back to him as she stirred in sugar again. 

He polished off his tea and stood to walk to the table. “I see,” he said gently. So it was mutually beneficial to not be openly friendly. At least, it was the conclusion he was going to. 

As he drew closer she couldn’t help the blush but she nodded her head. “I...likewise might explain later. Just not now,” she said, brushing it off. They could be friendly in private but not this friendly. At all. 

“Might isn’t an assurance,” he pointed out. “But fine, keep your secrets,” he shrugged, settling down his cup. “I’ll head back to the tower, give me a few moments?” He asked.

Finishing her own tea she gave a nod of her head. “Might isn’t...but there isn’t an assurance we’ll get a lot of moments to talk outside of school either,” she returned. He said he’d tell her, but she wouldn’t hold him to it once they graduated. Their worlds were far too different. Better to realize that now. 

Walking back over to her bag she scooped it up. “I’m likely going to go and check in with Luna. She’s had trouble losing things again,” she said with a sigh. 

With a nod he left, glad he would get some time to clear his mind.


	19. Sleep

As the week rolled into another, the Head Boy and Head Girl were managing to keep up with their studies and their duties. Homework alone in their common room was becoming more enjoyable than either of them would have thought possible given their partner and Hermione had managed to keep her distance from him physically. 

Potions was becoming a favorite part of her Monday, believe it or not, and she got to class early to start setting up their potions station. Except for the ingredients. Slughorn hadn’t actually assigned today’s potion just yet. 

Draco wasn’t as early, but he easily settled beside his partner, taking out his leather bound journal and sharp looking quill in preparation for their class. 

“What do you figure we’ll be brewing today?” he asked lightly. It had always been among his favorite classes, but now it seemed even better. Probably because he wasn’t competing so much as striving.

A small smile curved her lips as she pulled out the journal that Harry got her but the quill she had gotten from her potions partner and gave a shrug. “No idea. We have been modifying and creating our own versions of potions lately. So it will likely be something along those lines...I hope it’s not coming up with an antidote from scratch again.”

That had been a rough one. At least he wouldn’t have to see Potter come out unscathed by something like that again. Before he could discuss much more, Slughorn was marching through the doors from his office and into the classroom.

“Welcome,” he greeted the students. “I’m sure you’re all very excited for today’s class, so I won’t keep the suspense much longer,” he grinned tapping his wand against the board and allowing writing to come alive and scrawl instructions.

“Today we’ll be brewing sleeping draughts. I know you’ve all had experience with them through the years, so as with most of our classes this year, I want you to pick a recipe, or a few, and create your own. We’ll be testing them on a selection of rats and toads once your brew is complete. Happy brewing!”

Not a brew your own antidote but a brew your own sleeping draft. Lovely. Hermione drew out an older journal and flipped back through it and glanced over those notes as well as glancing over her textbook with a slow sigh. 

“Of course it’s sleeping potions,” she muttered to herself. 

“Makes sense, with all the counterfeits going around the school,” he muttered, pulling out his textbook and grabbing his quill. Jotting ingredients they would need. _Lavender, valerian root, chamomile,_ he wrote. “Perhaps something between a dreamless draught and a sleeping potion,” he muttered looking between the ingredients. If he was going to make something it was going to be a play on the potion he’d been working on for himself. “If we add moonstone and porcupine quills…” he added those to his notes. They were used in draughts of peace and love potions, it might help induce a more serene feeling to the potion.

“Those might work. Adding a bit of sopophorous bean might increase the longevity of the potion so it would last longer than a few minutes and help stabilize the other ingredients,” she said to him as she jotted down some more of the ideas. Some dreamless draughts also called for chamomile to help keep that sense of peace as well. “Moonstone would have to be used in great moderation or we’ll get it too close to a love spell…”

“Definitely,” he agreed. “Lavender and chamomile should help balance it out, we just have to avoid rose hips.”

“Rose hips can be rather easily avoided,” she thought aloud as she wrote down the ingredients and a few different ideas for brewing.”Honeywater might be better to use than flobberworm mucus…”

“It won’t thicken properly, and honey wouldn’t help promote sleep…” he reminded gently.

“Honeywater is often used in the dreamless draft to help it thicken, though that is normally to offset the nettles as well,” she offered with a bit of a sigh. She hated using flobberworm mucus. 

“If we used sopophorous beans, we might be able to thicken it naturally…” he said pensively looking at Hermione. “It would also double as keeping the sleep dreamless,” he added.

Nodding her head she went ahead and started to pull ingredients from her potions kit. “We’ll keep an eye on it and see what happens. I’m confident in our ability to think quickly on our feet.”

He began jotting a semblance of a list of ingredients and amounts. “We should probably try to calculate more or less what we need first before starting.” A bit more work at first, and then less stress later.

“I know. For a typical sleeping draught you’d need 4 sprigs of lavender. I believe matching the weight of the springs with the chamomile will work for that ingredient.”

“So two of each?” he jotted it and kept the proportions for standard ingredient and valerian. “Perhaps half a portion of Moonstone as used in the drought of euphoria, and porcupine quills probably need to be brought back a notch…”

“Probably a little bit more than a notch. But yes, two sprigs of lavender and match that weight to that of the flowers. They’re lighter than lavender sprigs and have to be balanced,” she agreed, actually moving to weigh them so they could figure that out. 

“Half a portion of moonstone and at least three less quills,” she said thoughtfully. 

He nodded, making notes as they went. “We can start it as we would a sleeping draught, and add the other ingredients in the second half. We should end on the beans so they not only thicken but keep some of their properties,” he thought out loud.

She nodded her head, getting the proper portion of chamomile and setting it aside with the lavender. “Agreed. And crushing them should release more of the juice rather than chopping them.” 

With a plan in motion, he began preparing the ingredients on hand. “I think we might be onto something,” he smiled looking her way before measuring a portion of standard ingredients.

A smirk curved her lips as she nodded her head, carefully starting to measure out all of their ingredients as the cauldron slowly warmed to a good starting temperature. “Was there any doubt that we wouldn’t be?”

“Not really, but it still feels good,” he admitted.

“It does. We know what we’re doing,” she smiled, adding the lavender and the chamomile to the mortar along with the standard ingredients and grinding them into a paste. 

As she did that, he set the fire under their cauldron to get it to the right temperature. “We do,” he agreed. He was certain she’d been working on her own brews, probably for similar reasons to his own.

Sleeping draughts and her were having a love hate sort of relationship as of late. Even the sleepless ones weren’t as effective as they should have been. But as she crushed the concoction slowly she knew they’d have to add some of the mucus to their cauldron once it was warmed. 

They worked well together, without even speaking they managed to get along the first four steps of the potion. Of all the people he could have been paired with, he never would have thought he would have liked working with Hermione.

Draco was getting things ready and she added a few drops of the mucus to the cauldron as well as a few of the non crushed standard ingredient portions before she added three parts of the mixture she’d created. Working with him was going rather seamlessly and was getting easier the longer the semester went on. 

“I think this is a good place to let it simmer."

“Mhmm. We’ll add the other pieces to it once it simmers for a little while.” She stirred it twice before she took a few notes in the journal. 

He made a few more notes and sat back. “So shall we look over the next steps? See if we still want to follow through with our original plan?”

“We likely should, and keep an eye on the potion. As it develops with the added ingredients we might have to change our methods.”

“Agreed,” he glanced at the potion and cross referenced their potion texts to figure what ingredients to add next and in which order.

There were some potions that called for valerian and some that called for the quills. The options they had were honestly endless and if they weren’t careful they’d get overwhelmed. 

“We can crush the moonstone and quills together and add a mix of standard ingredients with valerian after,” he offered, going over his notes.

“That might be the best way to administer it. Do you think we’ll need anymore flobberworm mucus?”

“I’m hoping the pods at the end will suffice for consistency."

“We’ll keep that in mind then and might need a bit more of the juice from the pods depending on the consistency of the potion,” she noted, actually keeping track of all of their measurements and the color of the potion. 

He nodded jotting a few things. “I think we can lower the heat and add the next ingredients,” he said, noting that perfect periwinkle color the potion was taking on.

“Alright. Do you want to grind the moonstone with the quills or would you like me to?” She offered, wanting to actually discuss this with him. 

“I’ll do it,” he nodded. She had handled the first items they’d had to crush, it was only fair he did this part of the process.

As he did that, she modified the temperature in the cauldron with a flick of her wand and made sure to glance at the potion. It was turning out better than she would have hoped. 

Crushing moonstone was no easy feat, but he got it to the perfect consistency, adding in the porcupine quills to get them all at the same fine powder. When everything was perfectly even, he brought the mortar over the cauldron and dropped in the measure.

The mixture almost crackled, starting to become a bit more purple as she stirred counterclockwise in order to distribute the powder throughout. 

“That looks promising,” he murmured, noting the color and adding a few notes.

“It does...a typical dreamless sleeping draft is a deep royal purple,” she mused, adding a few more notes to her own journal. 

“I suppose it would be similar in color, though maybe a bit more...shimmery because of the moonstone,” he said.

“Shimmery and a little more pale due to the added chamomile and lessened lavender,” she mused as she looked at the potion. It would have to stay on this heat for a bit before they could add the beans.

He agreed with a nod of the head. That seemed about right. “We should start preparing the pods,” he continued gently.

“Same amount as a typical sleeping draught or less?” That was the one ingredient they hadn’t measured. 

“We should start with one and a half, and then add the other half right before taking it off the heat to keep some of its properties,” he offered.

“That should work…” she spoke as she got two of the beans. Cutting them in half was difficult though and often resulted in some of the juice being spilled. 

Draco inched closer to her. “Press them down with the flat of your blade first. The shell is a bit rough if you try to cut it,” he offered. One of the tricks Snape had taught him.

At that, she put one of the beans in a bowl and pressed down with the flat of her blade. “I remember Harry doing this sixth year,” she recalled with a faint smile. It was still just a tad satisfying that it was a tip from someone that had been practicing potions longer than either of them.

“Well he did have Snape’s book,” he smirked. “Whereas I got the tip from him directly,” he shrugged.

A small smile curved her lips, the bowl filling with some of the liquid before she lifted the bean out and started to carefully chop it into bits. “He did...it was rather infuriating that he got skilled in potions overnight from that book.”

“Especially considering how much some of us actually worked for our grades,” he agreed in a grumbled undertone.

She nodded her head as she crushed another bean in that bowl and lifted it back out, slicing through the center and chopping half of it. Nearly half of the fluid and one and a half of the beans were added in. The color of the potion started to shift almost instantly and it was starting to thicken.

“Three counterclockwise stirs, and we should be done,” he smirked.

“Excellent. Then we’ll just add the other half of the bean. Can you chop it finely while I stir?” she asked as she carefully started to stir the potion again. 

He nodded, getting to work on the last half of a bean. Once he had them perfectly chopped, he gathered them and settled them in the cauldron.

Finishing with those stirs, she turned down the heat on the cauldron just so it would stay warm and then wiped her hands clean as she let out a slow breath. She had been so focused on their task that she hadn’t seen if anyone else had accomplished anything close to what they were doing. 

“I think that’s it,” he breathed, looking at that deep color and the silver flecks swirling in it like a night sky. A few more moments and they could bottle it and clean up their stations. He had to hope they had succeeded, and if they hadn’t they had a good basis to work with, of that he was certain.

Hermione jotted down a few more notes and nodded her head, getting out a few vials. Two smaller ones to turn in to Professor Slughorn...and a slightly larger vial for herself. If this worked she’d be taking some of that with her. It might actually help with the nightmares. 

He noted her taking a portion for herself and decided to do the same, if only for the sake of testing this latest attempt. Couldn’t be worse than the last batch he’d made, which had had a few unpleasant side effects.

There were still about twenty minutes left of brewing that could be done for the rest of the class before Professor Slughorn would start testing their potions. Hermione used that time to jot down a few ideas for the next paper that was jotted on the board. It was going to be about brewing theory and how to make your own modifications to types of existing potions.

Draco updated his schedule with the paper and added a few notes to his journal before Slughorn called them forward to test their potions. Compared to the three before them that barely succeeded, theirs seemed to do incredibly well. Of course, without the test subjects being able to speak, it was impossible to know if the finer details of their work had been as successful, though it seemed promising.

Slughorn beamed at them, as always and nodded his head. “Excellent….Excellent! Well done. And do you see this shimmer? Moonstone! Brilliant.Ten points to Slytherin and Gryffindor,” he chimed happily before he moved back to the board. 

“Now. I do want six feet of parchment on the methods used to change these potions from the basics to these more personalized brews. You have till the end of next week. Once you’ve cleaned your stations you’re free to go,” he chuckled though he eyed the pair there and Ginny and Pansy before taking a few notes down on his clipboard, busying himself with preparing for next class.


	20. Peeves

With October promising activities and distractions, it seemed to wake Peeves from an incredibly quiet start of class. Granted, he had thrown dungbombs into the gathered crowd of first years awaiting sorting outside the Great Hall, but beyond the few incidents since, he had been very little trouble.

Of course that was until every professor, prefect, and available hand was enlisted to fix his latest endeavour. How he had come to find the right soap in those quantities to have every washroom overflowing with suds was beyond anyone’s comprehension.

Thick foam coated a number of floors, streaks of green, blue, and the most odorous pink coloured bubbles bounced off the walls.

“CLEAN UP, EVERYBODY CLEAN UP,” Peeves gleefully sang at the top of his lungs, blowing raspberries at any student eying him in aggravation.

Hermione should have known that Peeves would do _something_ eventually. But she hadn’t thought it would be anything to this level. Holding back a groan as she cast another banishing spell to get the damn bubbles to disappear she shook her head. 

Glancing up at the poltergeist she shook her head at him. George would have gotten a kick out of this if he was here and likely would have another idea for a product. 

Draco merely sighed, refusing to give the poltergeist any attention, which only seemed to backfire.

“Oh Malfoy you bad boy! Look what you’ve done,” Peeves chanted about. “You’ll try to get cleaning but stare at her buns!”

The brunette simply rolled her eyes. Draco would not be looking at her. Friends. They were friends and more in the privacy of their own common room more often than not. 

“Should have known he wouldn’t be quiet forever…” She grumbled. Half tempted to see if Draco could get the Bloody Baron to come and collect Peeves…again.

“At least he’s gotten over convincing first years he’s Jesus,” he muttered. He was still confused by it, but he’d never really questioned it. Honestly, he missed those days, they were much simpler. 

“True. That confused everyone but the muggle-borns,” she murmured with a shake of her head and a sigh as she continued to vanish the bubbles that seemed to keep multiplying. The last thing she wanted to do was try and teach theology to purebloods and half bloods. 

Annoyed by being ignored, Peeves hovered over the Head Boy and Girl duo. “Oh poor Ms. Granger, she’s in danger, the Slytherin Prince might just change her. The Golden Girl around little Draco, might just go and lose her halo,” he sang loudly and offkey. 

No one could say that the poltergeist was above being a pain just to try and get the attention that he was after. 

“You feel in danger?” he asked, trying not to roll his eyes at the creature hovering about.

Hermione tried not to scoff. “No, not at all. Been in much more dangerous situations than being surrounded by bubbles that smell too strongly with you helping me take care of this hall.”

Peeves blew raspberries at them and wrinkled his nose. “No fun. No fun. NO FUN. Cleaning up halls with Malfoy, the Slytherin bad boy, bringing ladies no joy! Both mad as Potty wee Potter,” Peeves shouting before flying back into the hall bathroom.

Draco cursed a few more bubbles away and sighed. “Hopefully he’s found a new pastime,” he grumbled. 

“You realize how unlikely that is? We might have to find the Baron,” she muttered as she banished a few more of the bubbles and glanced towards the bathroom. If more of those bubbles started to pour out...she might just scream.

Even he wasn’t fond of calling the baron though they had an understanding of sorts. “I’ll go,” he sighed.

“If Sir Nicholas scared him, I’d go...but I think you’d have better chances with the Baron,” she murmured with a bit of a sigh herself as she continued getting rid of the bubbles and redirecting students. 

He merely nodded and made his way to the grand staircase to get the ghost in question. Few had bothered to get to know the baron, even less to hear his story. It had haunted him, especially through the last two years. Mostly, he feared a similar outcome to what had happened between the Bloody Baron and the Grey Lady to repeat. It was silly, stupid. They’d kissed nothing more.

When he returned, he had parted ways with the Slytherin ghost, returning to the brunette while Peeves got what was coming for him. Better than any curse he could conjure up which wasn’t worth risking Azkaban over.

The shriek from Peeves as he fled from the Baron could be heard and Hermione actually almost chuckled as she continued banishing the bubbles. At least the Blood Baron had helped. She knew a bit about his story, but she had never really spoken to him. Honestly, she couldn’t be certain that the Baron wouldn’t hate her for her blood status either. 

Where he might have reveled in the shriek before, it reminded him of other things. Perhaps because he was so close to her. Rather than linger on the thoughts he built his walls up, focusing on the task of clearing the hall from the bubbles.

“At least this isn’t as bad as the portable swamps,” she murmured with a shake of her head. 

“Definitely smells better,” he agreed in an undertone.

Hermione actually chuckled slightly. “Agreed. More like three of the taps from the bath,” she murmured with a shake of her head as she banished more of the bubbles. 

“Which is probably what he used.” He could go for a bath. Shite. He noticed a bigger bout of them in the corner. “We should go there,” he groaned.

A sigh left her lips and she nodded her head. “Probably...ugh. At least he won’t be making any more of a mess,” she murmured as she started to move over towards the corner. This corridor was nearly completely cleaned of the bubbles now.

So focused on keeping his mind in check, he didn’t really keep track of his footing, and the next thing he knew he was struggling with his balance. Draco reached forward, his hand clasping a set of robes, and dragging a weight with him.

Hermione actually let out a surprised shriek as she was pulled down with Draco, sliding and losing her own footing in the process. The floor was slick and she was pulled _on top of_ the blonde with a gasp.

It was the least that he’d been able to do despite taking her down with him. Typical. Everything he seemed to do was drag her with him. Despite that, his gaze was on her, flicking between her lips and those honey brown eyes of her. Beneath his breast, his heart stammered.

Hermione’s eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed as she tried not to scramble to get up. If she did that she had a feeling she’d just elbow him in the face. Which was the exact opposite of what she wanted to do. Those silver eyes of his were drawing her in, her heart a drumming roar in her ears. 

There were no thoughts as he held her wrists, feeling her straddle him that way. He was lost. Absolutely drowning in the feeling of her. That warmth, that look in her eyes. She was like a startled doe. Trying to sit up he found himself really close to her.

As they both sat up, and he was so close to her, her gaze dropped to his lips. Words weren’t something that even registered to her at the moment. This was a terrible idea. They shouldn’t even be friends, let alone like this, but with his hands holding her wrists she didn’t pull away or move to stand just yet. 

Watching her eye his lips, he couldn’t stop the next actions to follow through. He leaned forward, claiming her lips in a heated kiss. He shouldn’t, they had said they wouldn’t. They had agreed. He didn’t _deserve_ this.

It was like watching herself through a haze. She kissed him back, pressing closer and leaving her wrists in his grasp for the moment. He wasn’t hurting her...but he could. That should terrify her after everything. She shouldn’t _want_ to kiss him, but it was just as good as the last time he’d kissed her.

How did she taste so wonderful? Every single time he kissed her, he wanted more than anything to devour her. To taste every inch of her that he could. Despite wanting to run away, he didn’t move beyond meeting her lips this way.

Hermione nearly melted into him. If she were honest with herself, which she was sure she couldn’t afford to be, he was the best guy she’d kissed. This kiss was lasting longer than their last one with her there in his lap, the roar of her heartbeat staying there.

As much as he wanted to spend the rest of the evening kissing her, he pulled away. “Get off me,” he said, though whether he was angry or anxious was still hard to tell.

Those words echoed in her ears and that blush started to pale as she did quickly get off of him and take several steps away. Her hair fell in her face and she made no move to attempt to brush it back out of her face. Hermione cleared her throat a few times and mentally berated herself. This was stupid. She was behaving like an idiot.

_Snogging the guy who tormented you in previous years, good kisser or no, is not showing your intelligence,_ she thought to herself as she walked past him and vanished the bubbles that were in the corner of the corridor. Not daring to look back at him, a tension to her shoulders again as her heart hammered. 

She was so quick to dismount. _Of course she was, you tormented her…_ He slowly got up and brushed lint off his robes. As she moved to finish up the job, he left. It was too hard to remain, and there wasn’t much left. All he could remember was how wide her eyes had been. It was stupid. Why had he kissed her? He needed to get away, to not think. Occlumency would be his best friend for the foreseeable future. He needed to collect his thoughts, to assess where he was at before he faced her again.

She could hear his footsteps moving away and all she wanted to do was go back to her room, but if he was going there she was going to give him space. She was going to let him do whatever it was he was going to do. They didn’t get much free time away from each other and she was sure he wanted it. There was no logical reason that he would want to kiss her. None at all. 

“Malfoy and Granger, patrolling the halls, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Peeves shrieked, much to Hermione’s mortification. Before she could say a word however, the Baron came through a wall. 

“No, no, no, no. Stabby stabby, Baron!” The poltergeist shrieked and dove up into the ceiling to go to a different floor.

The Blood Baron swooped after him, brandishing his sword with a fearsome looking expression on his face. All that expression did was remind Hermione of the tale of him and the Gray Lady. A shudder rolled down her spine and she couldn’t help but sigh. This year was even more complicated, for different reasons, than she would have expected. 

Walking down the hall she couldn’t help but shake her head. It made more sense when she had a crush on Malfoy before he had called her despicable names, made fun of her for her hair, her teeth, her blood status. It was all something that had proven he was colder...but he’d changed, hadn’t he?

Regardless, this just had to be from exhaustion. She couldn’t _really_ like Malfoy and he couldn’t _really_ like her, could he? There was one potential way to find out. 

The daydream charm that was in her room had still been untouched. Normally she liked keeping her wits about her and normally she didn’t like the idea of having a spell last on her for thirty minutes or more at a time. But it was supposed to access your subconscious and allow you to sort of experience or discover what you really wanted. It allowed most girls to actually indulge in an unattainable crush. Apparently for some of them, it was still Viktor Krum. Not that she blamed them. He had been nice. 

A new sense of resolve washed over her as she let out a slow breath and went back towards the stairs. To hell if he was actually back in the tower. She was going to get the charm and go to the library. There were a few stacks that most students didn’t go to after all.


	21. Daydream

Draco hadn’t been in their common room and she was pretty sure that he hadn’t been in his room. Which was all the better for her. He was likely off with his friends, with Blaise or something. Someone. Which was fine, just fine. If she didn’t have a theory to prove she might have actually gone to hang out with Luna or Ginny. But she had to test this. Figure something out. If she was actually mental or if something was going on. 

Once in the library with the box for the patented daydream charm, she read over the note that had come with it. 

_Hermione, Happy Birthday! Pity about Ron, but sent you this one since you liked the other. This one is less specific, so no pirates for our war hero, just good day dreams that would make you happy. Hopefully. It is a prototype, but you’d like the magic behind it. If you want the specifics write me back. Anyway! Have a wonderful birthday and remember to tell your friends where you got your daydream charms._

Oh, George. He was ridiculous but she couldn’t help but smile. And the ingredients and spell working was exactly why she thought that this was a better idea. It would help her explore what she actually wanted and honestly if she daydreamed about a lazy day at the lake with her friends she’d know that maybe she was just tired. It was honestly what she was hoping for. 

Putting the box back in her bag and propping up a book so it would look like she was reading, and hide any vacant expression she might happen to get as a side effect, she cast the spell on herself. 

Her view of the library melted away from her, the familiar pages of _Hogwarts: A History_ no longer there in her field of vision. At first, everything started to go black, everything was fading away but then everything started to brighten again. 

The number of times she had been by the lake during spring term told her that was exactly where she was. She was on a blanket with a few of her favorite books, some of those chocolates she snacked on, sugar quills, and some tea. It was...peaceful. The kind of peace that she had been craving for months and had been unable to find. The kind of peace that had been promised to all of them after the war. 

There were a few things that she had expected that weren’t there though. Harry and Ron were nowhere to be found, perhaps they didn’t fit the peaceful narrative of this daydream, she didn’t have school work, and she was in a sundress that was about as far from uniform as it could be. But it had been a favorite of hers before everything. Silver and red. It suited her more than she cared to admit. The gold tended to just make her eyes more golden while silver always deepened the brown of her eyes. 

There was no one around, that was also surprising, more often than not now she didn’t like being alone. But the peace of it all was calming, it had her relaxing and picking up one of her books. One from her private collection. Huh. Well, maybe she should make more time for those.

It felt like some time before anything perturbed her perfect day. A shadow cast over her shoulder, making the lines harder to read. 

“Reading that thing again,” his voice drawled. “Honestly witch, don’t you get bored of rereading things over and over.”

In the daydream, she rolled her eyes but smiled as she tilted her head back to look at him. “I don’t critique your reading choices, now do I?” 

“Pretty sure you have,” he pointed. “Though I’m critiquing your need to know it all more than your choice…” he paused. “Nevermind,” he shrugged. It didn’t work if he had to explain his scathing remark. 

“Considering this one is a work of Muggle fiction, it’s not me knowing it all and more me enjoying a story,” she countered as she closed the book and set it beside her, actually scooting over to make room for him on the blanket. 

He eyed her, a hint of disgust before handing his next retort. “No, you’re reading something safe because you already know how it ends,” he accused. 

“And what should I be doing instead, huh?” She asked with a raised brow and a bit more heat to her own voice. Why was her daydream turning heated?

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” he retorted. “To have me tell you what to do…”

“And why would I want Slytherin’s prince telling me what to do?” She countered with a raised brow as he still loomed over her like that. 

From where he stood he looked down at her. “You seem to like where you are,” he taunted, a glimmer in his gaze that wasn’t malice.

That glimmer got her attention and she found herself entranced by his eyes once again. “In the sunshine near the lake? Absolutely,” she countered with a bit of cheek and the slightest of smiles, almost challenging.

There was a flicker of aggravation before he countered. “Not what I meant,” he drawled. “Though while you’re down there…”

“Mmmm, seems like you’re trying to ask for something,” she mused with an innocent grin. What was going on in her own daydream?

“I am,” he brought a foot forward. “My lace has come undone,” he met her gaze. “What could you possibly think I meant?” He demanded.

She rolled her eyes at that. “No idea. Not like you were giving hints,” she drawled and actually tied his shoe, it was a helpful thing to do after all. “But it isn’t like you couldn’t have gotten it,” she said with a shake of her head. 

“And what hints are you hoping for Granger?” His brow perked with curiosity.

What was she hoping for? Great question. “Not sure, Malfoy. But I thought we’d started actually using our given names,” she countered. 

“Have we now?” He sat beside her and looked onto the lake. “Pretty sure we were also avoiding meeting like this in public."

Looking out at the lake she let out a soft sigh. “Everyone else is busy. Studying for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, in class. The benefits of having a partner that can keep up with you intellectually...we can have a bit more free time sometimes,” she murmured. 

“And you’re not studying?” He feigned consternation, a hand reaching for his heart. “Naughty Hermione,” he accused teasingly.

A slight laugh left her at that and she playfully shoved his shoulder. “Shut up, Draco,” she threatened playfully at that. 

“Don’t like me calling you naughty?” He demanded risking a glance her way.

“Absolutely not. What kind of witch do you think I am?” She asked with a bit of a smile as she looked at him, but honestly him calling her that made a small tendril of heat roll through her. 

He eyed her. “Then I suppose I’ll have to find alternatives until you shut me up…” he drawled. “Cheeky? No. Bad?” He grinned as he conjured up more words to describe her skipping studies. 

She rolled her eyes with a grin as she glanced over at him. “Draco you are an incorrigible pain,” she actually laughed as she leaned into his side a bit, her hand brushing his easily in the daydream.

“Takes one to know one,” he responded, his hand remaining still as she touched him.

“If I’m such a pain, you’re welcome to leave me to read,” she reminded, but still kept her hand over his. 

He looked at her, and then down at his hand. “You sure you want me to leave?”

Looking down at their hands she glanced back up at him. “I do enjoy your company, but if you’re going to keep insulting me,” she accused but there was a hint of playfulness there, not seriousness. That was...odd.

“Insults are part of my charm,” he let his thumb smoothe over the back of her hand.

She almost snorted. “You are rather good at them,” she agreed as she glanced back at him and drank him in. Why did he have to be so handsome?

His gaze remained on her as she looked at him. The way the sun’s rays kissed her hair, it made some of the wily curls seem blonde. It seemed to take every ounce of his self-control not to touch them, not to lean forward, and yet he did. “So you find me charming,” he breathed.

“You have your moments,” she replied quietly before she closed that distance between them, as it so often happened in the truly waking world, and kissed him. Her mind didn’t even have to fabricate the feeling. She knew what his kisses felt like, what they tasted like. 

The Draco Malfoy of her dreams kissed her back fervently. His tongue exploring the confines of her mouth while his hand cupped her cheek.

Hermione Granger melted into him without a qualm or a fear in the daydream, kissing him back and letting her tongue tangle with his while one arm looped around him, pressing herself closer. 

His arms snaked around her, practically pulling her into his lap as they continued being liplocked.

A soft sound of surprise left her, but she straddled him and pressed closer, her fingers brushing over his hair. But she had no way of knowing whether or not it was as soft as it was in her head. Her heart hammered in her chest. 

Where the Draco in her dreams was smoothing his hands up and down her back, kissing her more deeply than he ever had, the Draco she saw day to day was one stack over.

“Come on,” Pansy’s voice purred. “Stop being such a bore, you know you like it when…” her voice drifted while her tongue slicked over her top lip before feeling over the lower one, making suggestive motions as to what use she might apply it to.

The daydream charm was wearing off, a little shorter than thirty minutes so she was going to make sure that she wrote to George about that, but she half wished it lasted a little longer. Her cheeks were a little pink. What she was hearing as she was coming back to her senses didn’t help much either as she shook her head, blinking as the library started to settle around her again. 

“Perhaps I’m not the one who’s boring,” his voice could be heard though it was low. Enough not to draw Madam Pince’s ire. They were far enough not to be interrupted. A section that few perused.

“You rather be with Granger?” Disgust tainted her voice.

A bit of a chuckle escaped him, a coolness he had hid behind time and time again. “Are you jealous?”

“Of her? No,” the answer came quick. Too quick.

“Then why are you still talking?” he demanded.

There was a silence and a rustle of robes. “Oh is that how we’re playing it?” she crooned.

“Don’t...touch me,” he warned, catching her wrists.

Disgust coiled through Hermione’s stomach but so did that sinking feeling once again. Apparently her crush was back full force, for some ungodly reason, and he barely tolerated her. 

Rather than sit there silently, she scooped up her bag and her copy of Hogwarts: A History and rounded the stacks.

“Parkinson,” she snapped, her eyes narrowed, looking every bit the irritated lioness that some didn’t want to encounter, but her cheeks were still red. “I do believe you should be on patrol with your partner. Be on your way before I report your slacking to the Headmistress,” she threatened. 

Draco kept the witch pinned as he took in the situation, dropping her hands as if he had been made of fire.

“You heard her, Parkinson,” he said coldly, not daring to look at Hermione.

Of course she’d had to catch them like this, not that she was catching anything. Not really. He hadn’t been playing into Pansy’s antics, though for a spell she had distracted him. If he had to pick which witch was more irritating in his life, he wasn’t sure he could pick between the two. One was persistent in the most aggravating way, and the other was insufferably perfect.

“Whatever,” Pansy shrugged, looking between the pair of them. “Don’t pass out from too much fun,” she rolled her eyes between the two and went on her way to patrol. Perhaps she’d have some . 

Hermione actually glared after Parkinson for a moment, not daring to look at Draco. Their kiss earlier was something she could almost feel on her lips still, which was dumb. He was just a boy with an itch, he didn’t want her.

“Might want to find someplace more private than the library...or a broom cupboard,” she muttered, though there was a sharpness to her voice as she started to leave as well, cheeks still heated with blush. Though now it was a mix of shame, anger, and embarrassment. 

“Might want to stop jumping to conclusions,” he sneered. It didn’t matter, and yet he couldn’t stop the words from his mouth. “You know what they say about those who assume,” he responded sternly.

He had wanted to shove Parkinson on her knees. There definitely was an itch he wanted to scratch, but seeing Hermione fucking Granger in front of him...it only increased the self-loathing that had generated the desire.

At that she spun around to look at him, a bit of fire in her eyes as she glared. “Oh, my apologies. I’m sure there are a number of innocent activities that a duo can do in a broom cupboard. Or far away from Madam Pince hidden in the stacks,” she hissed, unable to help it.

She was quicker to anger now than she had been before the war. She was more angry at herself. He had tormented her for years. It didn’t matter that first year she had been fascinated by the pretty blond boy with the brilliant mind. It didn’t matter that he had changed, not really. They’d always be worlds apart and this was only confirming that. 

“I can think of plenty, perhaps you’re the one that needs to visit a broom closet, Granger,” he hissed. Turning on his heels he began making his way out. No, he wasn’t going there, he wasn’t going to slip again. He’d come to clear his mind, and this, this wasn’t helping. He needed control, and right then, he was spiraling out of it.

“Excuse me?!” She hissed, incredulous and outraged, but no. She had to go the same way to leave, so she actually stomped after him. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t know a damn thing about me,” she snapped, but shook her head and actually moved to stomp past him. She needed to get to her room.

“Yeah?” he called as she marched forward. “Same goes to you,” he said rather loudly, earning him a shush from the librarian, her gaze sending daggers over her spectacles. 

He offered an apologetic look before marching behind Granger. It wasn’t like he had a choice, they were both returning to their dorm, which didn’t offer much privacy, but he didn’t say anything until they were out of the library.

“You keep claiming you want to be my friend, but you’re acting more like a jealous girlfriend,” he hissed.

They had made it as far as the stairs and she looked back at him incredulously. “I _beg_ your pardon? But why would I be jealous of Parkinson over you?” She almost sneered the words, hating that she was saying it. Hating that she could remember the feeling she had second year when Parkinson took credit for something that _she_ had done. 

“Any girl would feel disgusted, girlfriend or no, after being kissed and then seeing just how quickly the guy goes to another girl. Not flattering, as I said before. But I suppose you had to get some distance from the fact you’d kissed a Muggleborn,” she hissed, not loud enough that anyone else could hear, before she continued up the stairs. This was not going to be a pleasant trip to their tower. And she shouldn’t have taken it that far.

Draco’s features hardened. That was what she thought? “You’re getting awfully worked up over a kiss _you_ put an end to,” he drawled. “And again, you’re assuming, so I stand by my assessment.” 

He didn’t look at her. Honestly, he couldn’t. That kiss had meant something to him, but it was easier to pin it on her. She was disgusted with him, and it was all he could expect. He deserved that, and yet, he still struggled to come to terms with it.

“Forget it, Malfoy. Next time I won’t say a word. But I can’t even….” she trailed off and shook her head as she stepped off the landing onto their hallway and started to go down it. 

“You can’t even what?”

“Forget it,” she snapped. That was uncharitable. What she had nearly said, not to mention not true, but she didn’t dare turn around. Didn’t dare look at him. That crush was going to ruin her, but better for her to cut herself down and allow the Malfoy heir to get distance and have his second chance at life. 

“Fine,” he hissed.

“Perfect,” she hissed back as she made it to their portrait, muttured the password, and swiftly went inside. She picked a few chocolates from the bowl in the common room, and made a line straight for her room.

“Great,” he said, taking the last word before slamming the door to his room the second he got to it. He needed to breathe, to take a moment to just calm himself.


	22. Unintended

His fingers ran through his silver strands, a sigh leaving his lip as he muttered muffliato at the door. The last thing he needed was to be overheard as he gave a groan, and a bit of a sound of aggravation before kicking his trunk. A decision he immediately regretted. No, he needed something soothing to collect his thoughts. Summoning his things, he opened the door that led to their shared bathroom, settling them in a corner near the bath which he filled with silent wandless spells that opened the floodgates. Hot water, bubbles, it wasn’t long that a thick fog was covering the windows and mirrors.

With the pool sized bath filling, he disrobed, conjuring his clothes to his room with a flick of his wand before he stepped into the water. It burned his flesh, just as he liked it. His normally alabaster skin turning a deep shade of pink as he made his way further in. Sinking into the water he brought his knees to his chest and settled at the bottom of the pool.

Eyes closed, he kept himself in a small ball. It was all he could do to keep her screams at bay. Hearing her do so at night every so often didn’t help. However, after their latest row, all he could think was how much of a coward he was. Just as he’d been when she’d been tortured in his drawing room’s floor. His mouth opened, the water muffling his scream before he resurfaced for a breath, only to dip down again, even if his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen he kept submitting himself to.

Hermione had cast the same spell on her own room and she had screamed her frustration into a pillow. This was stupid. Stupid! She had journals from first and second year that talked about her crush until he had called her that slur. A slur that she was certain he didn’t really believe anymore, but he was still a pureblood. Not being a blood purist didn’t mean that he wouldn’t still want to be with a pureblood witch. 

A sigh left her lips as she changed into a robe and grabbed her nightgown. With a flick of her wand towards the bathroom door she flicked on the bubbles that she liked. A pale aqua color that smelled like flowers. 

There was one thing that the pair of them did not know, and that was that anytime that there was already water in the bath that it wouldn’t cut on anything but the bubbles that were wanted. And the pool ran rather silently. 

She stepped into the bathroom and put her clothing on a ledge near her side of the bathroom and hung up her own robe before stepping down into the water. It was a little hotter than she normally set it but it matched her frustration. Matched the irritation she felt. She sank down to sit on the ledge underwater at the edge of the bath and ran a hand through her hair with a soft groan.

“I’m such an idiot,” she grumbled under her breath. 

A sentiment that Draco felt deeply in his mind. His lungs burned, his body aching as he clutched his thighs to his chest, struggling. It wasn’t the first time he pushed his limits. A coping mechanism he’d begun using when the Dark Lord had lived under his roof. Before long his legs outstretched, his feet pushing the bottom of the pool to force him out of the water. When he finally broke through the bubbles, his gasp was loud and unrestrained. He struggled to breathe, his heart racing in his breast.

That gasp nearly had her jump and the red that had finally left her cheeks turned a brilliant scarlet as she sank down into the bubbles. Normally he locked the door. Normally if either of them was in here they locked the other door. But she hadn’t done that either had she? Anger made foolish people out of both of them apparently. 

“Bloody hell,” she groaned with such a deep level of embarrassment that she couldn’t stand it. But rather than shut up, she rambled. “You didn’t lock the door, but neither did I, did I? Oh...Godric’s sword. Just, bloody hell, turn around and I’ll leave, you were here first and…” she spluttered and actually covered her face with her hands. Mortified beyond belief. 

At first, he had thought it was merely his imagination, until she’d begun rambling. He barely caught most of it, his ears still hammering from his time under water. His features paled as he noted her over the bubbles.

“What the fuck Granger!” His fingers combed through his wet hair. “If you wanted to see me naked, there are better ways,” he hissed, not speaking in his usual tongue and cheek.

“What did I just say, Malfoy?!” She snapped back, still keeping her face covered and not looking over at the blond. Despite a slight desire in fact to look. “You didn’t lock the door. Probably because you’re still just as irritated as I am,” she grumbled.

He stared at her. “I was under water you swot,” he hissed. “Pardon me if I couldn’t hear your precious consternation after invading _my_ privacy.” 

Irritated was the understatement of the year. He felt more than merely irate at this point. So much so it took a few moments for him to realize she was naked. He was naked. They were naked. His throat felt parched.

At that she actually did lower her hands from her face to glare at him. “Oh, excuse me for invading your privacy I didn’t mean to invade in the first place! You left the bloody door unlocked you elitist git,” she hissed right back. 

The bubbles were thick, thank Merlin for that, or she might just have been able to see more of him. As it was her eyes were slightly wider as she looked at him. Oh, she was in trouble. She could even see the edges of the scar that Harry had given him. 

He marched forward towards her, his motions slowed by the deep waters that rose above his navel. “Pardon me for seeing the merits of a meritocracy,” he growled. “I don’t see you in any hurry to leave though do I?” he demanded, narrowing his gaze on her. He tried not to look down from those chocolate hues. Would he see her breasts if he did? Something he’d imagined more times than he cared to admit. And he was thoroughly ashamed of it. He was acting like a school boy.

“Turn around and I will gladly leave. Sharing a bath with you is not something I intended to do in the least,” she hissed right back at him, keeping her gaze on his eyes. But that didn’t help either. Those silvery hues were ones that had caught her attention first year on the steps outside the Great Hall. Damn it. 

She stayed sitting and her eyes widened as he came closer, if she tried to stand up she’d show him far more than she ever planned to. This was not how she had wanted her evening to go in the least. 

The situation was as ridiculous as he felt, which was parched while surrounded by water. “Oh it isn't, is it?” he demanded. “Then why are you still looking at me like that?”

They were close, so close. He could just turn and let her leave, and yet, he liked having that power. So long as he stood within her reach right before her, she was as trapped as he was. This was their stalemate.

“No, it isn’t. I wanted a bath and then I was going to study,” she effortlessly lied. Study, more like wallow in her own self-loathing for her feelings. His family could have killed her, she didn’t need to be getting anywhere near him. “Looking at you like what? Like I’m shocked you drew closer? I most certainly am!”

She could feel the red in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat from the bath and everything to do with just how close he was to her. They were both nude, any modesty they had was from the thickness of the bubbles. 

“Just as I’m shocked you merely assumed a filled bath was yours to sink into,” he reminded pointedly. “Even the elves don’t like _you_ that much.”

Deflection was easy, he’d done it for years, turned it into an art.

“I used spells just like you do to fill the bath. And the bubbles that I wanted are present among the ones I’m sure that you put into the tub,” she snapped right back. “Apparently your dives under the water didn’t hear more bubbles being added. Both of us are at fault here, Malfoy. Will you just move?”

 _Sorry I couldn’t hear over my unsuccessful attempts to drown myself,_ he thought bitterly. No, it was more than that, there was a reason he hadn’t offed himself. He didn’t deserve a quick end. Not after everything.

“So now you assume to know which bubbles I use?” he demanded. “Are you stalking me?”

“Oh Merlin’s beard, Malfoy,” she hissed. She wrapped her arms around her chest and stood with a glare, her arms covering most of them from view. “I chose the aqua ones only so the others, I assumed, were yours. Move so I can go,” she hissed. 

He was close, close enough to touch. The way he stood in front of her made it so she’d either have to try and side step, probably wouldn’t go well with how slick the bottom of the tub was, or she’d have to move him. They were already almost touching as she glared at him, tried to hold that glare and keep her eyes on his face.

“I’m at fault for going under water?” he still wasn’t over it. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have to nearly drown myself just to avoid hearing you scream,” he hissed. 

She wanted him to move? He wasn’t done expressing his inconvenience of her just popping in. “And I’ll have you know, I like all the bubbles,” he quipped.

“Excuse me?!” She snapped, anger igniting once again. She kept one arm around her chest, covering herself, as she showed the other arm, with the word carved into her flesh. 

“I’m so sorry that I still have _nightmares_ about what happened to me in your house. Having it carved into my skin with enchantments so it will _never_ go away wasn’t exactly pleasant,” she snapped back at him. 

He caught her wrist as she showed off the arm, his own mark on display as he clutched her.

There was hurt with the anger in her eyes as she glared at him. “Good for you for liking the bubbles, Malfoy. Perfect. But I’m not apologizing again. You want me gone? Move.”

“As if you’re the only one with nightmares,” he hissed, his voice low. There something in his gaze no amount of occlumency could hold back in that moment. She’d been tortured a day in his drawing room, it was nothing compared to the mark on his arm and how it had come to be placed there. “Or a scar that won’t ever disappear,” he spat.

She tugged lightly at her wrist in his grip, her heart hammering in her chest as she looked up at him. “Fine! I’ll enchant my room so you can’t hear a peep. Would that make it better for you?” She almost snarled the words, but there was hurt in her expression as well. It shouldn’t bother her that it reminded her of Ron not knowing how to deal with it, with her, after everything that happened, but it did. 

“You’ve made your point,” she snapped, that roar of her heartbeat in her ears almost making them ring. 

“Have I, your highness?”

He was towering over her. She seemed smaller than usual like this. She was trying to get away, and he wasn’t giving her that space. He should have. As much as he wanted to just let her leave, he couldn’t. He didn’t like that she would rather suffer alone than...His mind couldn’t even finish that thought. Before he knew what he was doing he crushed his lips to hers. He didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve her, but he had no words to offer.

It was harsh, almost desperate, the way his lips crushed to hers. While in a way it reminded her of the first kiss she shared with Ron, this was different. There was no threat of their lives hanging over their head...so why did it feel like she was drowning? For just a few moments she didn’t kiss him back, too shocked, but it only took that long before she did kiss him back.

There was no tentativeness like there was with the other ones. Just that edge of desperation, like she was clinging to anything that would make her feel something other than the fear and hurt. Draco was solid. Hermione Jean Granger should be doing anything but kissing him...but she couldn’t stop herself.

Though the pause had almost been enough to make him pull away, the retaliation of her lips had him bringing their arms down towards the water. None of this was okay, they weren’t okay by any means, but he couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. Not when he had her tongue tied like this.

Literally tongue tied this time as she parted her lips for him, allowing his tongue to tangle with hers. As their hands lowered towards the water, she actually brought her arm up to grab his shoulder. It was like she would push him away or pull him closer, but no other movement happened, except for her thumb brushing across his skin. It felt so soft under her hand. 

That hand almost burned him, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he welcomed the pain it caused. His teeth nipped at her lower lip, sucking it in firmly before crushing them in a bruising embrace. As much as he’d nearly kissed Pansy earlier, this was what he would have envisioned. His fingers found her side, digging just above her hip as he continued to kiss her.

A soft gasp left her at the nip and almost pulled away as he sucked on her lip. Though as soon as he was kissing her again, she was lost. Not that she had imagined kissing Malfoy, not since she was younger and more foolish, but she wouldn’t have imagined this gentle intensity. That dig had her press a bit closer to him, almost dropping the arm around her chest. 

It was getting harder to breathe, his lungs burning just as they had under the water. When he parted to breathe again, he eyed her. “Friends... share,” he barely managed the words. A flush streaked his cheeks that he was even going there. The bath was big enough for both of them wasn’t it?

Friends. This was starting to very much not feel like friends. He’d kissed her again. As much as he had tried to blame her at first...he kept kissing her. Was it physical frustration? It had to be. She kept interrupting him with Parkinson, though that thought stung. Deeply. 

As she caught her breath, her cheeks burned with the amount of blush that was there. That kiss had left her feeling so breathless it almost _hurt_. “Can’t say I’ve shared with a friend,” she murmured, sounding rather embarrassed. Had he? Of course he had. Draco Malfoy didn’t seem like the sort to have shame. 

Her words had him wonder what she meant by share, or even what he’d meant by share. Shit. “Kisses or a bath?” he couldn’t stop the words from escaping his lips, a glimmer of amusement in his gaze as he eyed her. 

The question kept that burning blush in her cheeks, but that glimmer in his eyes had her drowning in them. Silvery grey to her honey brown. “...Can’t say I’ve done either with a friend,” she admitted, still too shocked to pull away.

“Perhaps you need better friends.” He couldn’t help but look at her lips. They were redder than usual, just as he suspected his were. Meeting her gaze again he tried to recapture control of his thoughts. 

She snorted slightly at that, but she slowly moved her hand off of his shoulder, wrapping that arm back around her chest. She was far too exposed. “...I rather like my friends…I..” she trailed off and she managed to break his gaze, glancing over to the side rather than at him. “...I’ll leave you to your bath,” she offered.

He followed her gaze to the bubbles and sighed. “If you must,” he nodded. More to mentally chide himself over.

Looking at the bubbles rather than him. “...It’d be for the best,” she nodded. But for who? What she wanted to do was kiss him again but she knew that she’d let her gaze wander him and let her hands trace where her eyes looked. Dangerous territory. And worse since she knew she shouldn’t want him and he couldn’t possibly want her. 

“Take a step back so I don’t risk slipping?” She asked rather than demanded. 

Draco wasn’t sure what was the best. Ignoring her? Avoiding her? Kissing her? What did them going their separate ways do for anyone? It didn’t change what they had done, what they kept doing, or how no matter how much they wanted their space, they seemed to not have any.

“Why?” he found himself saying. Not to the request so much as the statement. “We keep doing this,” he said honestly. “Let’s…” he tried to find a way to say it. “Maybe we just need to do this, so it stops,” he added. “Instead of this constant push and pull…”

That made her blink as she turned her head to look back at him. “...Continuing to do it likely won’t make it stop,” she countered, trying to be logical about this. “I also...I just...I don’t casually kiss people. This isn’t…” she took in a slow breath and slowly let it out. “You’re a great kisser, but I don’t just kiss people because they’re good at it.”

_No, you do so because of attraction and you can’t admit it because you’d rather hurt yourself than be rejected._ She thought to herself. Either way, this wasn’t going to end well. She couldn’t see it ending well. 

“Well the running away every time it’s happened hasn’t helped either,” he noted. “And considering how many times we’ve...I doubt you can really claim that anymore…” 

There was nothing wrong with casual hook ups, he preferred them, compared to Pansy that seemed to constantly throw herself at him.

“No, running away hasn’t helped either, but continuing it will just continue the cycle of this problem...and I don’t want to be the kind of girl that just casually…” she trailed off and shook her head. “Can we maybe continue this conversation later? While clothed?” She asked, her cheeks still bright red. 

Every time there was something. It just felt like excuses. _Of course she’s looking for excuses, she’s too good for you._

“Whatever Granger,” he shrugged, turning around to summon his wand. The length of wood shooting through the air and into his hand so he could call his black silk robe forward. He could change in his quarters. There was no point in talking in circles. 

Why was he angry? _Probably because he was looking for a way to get whatever this is out of his system and be done with you. His family couldn’t possibly hear about this._ Now she was tempted to just dunk herself under the water and wish to disappear. 

“...Fine,” she muttured, no heat to her words though as she actually moved away from him. If he was getting out, she’d soak. Soak and hope to get the thoughts out of her head that seemed to circle themselves any time he was around her. She turned her back to him and let out a sigh. 

That word. She was so incredibly frustrating, like she constantly needed the last word. He wrapped himself in his robe and stalked back to his room, slamming the door behind him. At least he knew he wouldn’t be interrupted to clear his mind with his pensieve.


	23. Propositions

Chatter could be heard across the Great Hall, between exams coming up, and a handful of students having received tell-tale emerald envelopes with silver cursive across it, word of a Slug Club revival was rumoured about.

Sat with the letter in her hands, Hermione Granger almost groaned, drawing vicious looks from certain Slytherin girls that would have gladly dosed her for that very card she held. Of course she was invited again. The Golden Girl of Gryffindor was someone that Professor Slughorn would love to collect. 

“Another Slug Club party... Halloween plans have been made for me, I suppose,” the brunette muttered before she took a long sip of her pumpkin juice with a sigh. This was going to be a time. It made her wonder who else was invited. 

Ginny took a seat next to her with a smile. “You got invited too? Who are you bringing as your plus one this time?”

“I haven’t even thought of it. Perhaps I should have. It isn’t like Slughorn inviting me to his party is a shock. I just didn’t expect that there would be guests accepted at this particular party,” she said, picking up another small tart from the table. At least she had some appetite. 

“You could always go alone, Hermione,” Luna offered with that dreamy smile as she sat next to Neville. “Nothing wrong with dating yourself.”

Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle at that and shake her head. “Or she can get back on the proverbial hippogriff...we could find a few eligible bachelors, help plan the wedding...I’m your maid of honour by the way,” Ginny teased. Mostly.

“That could be an idea,” Luna replied before actually looking around the Great Hall. “Perhaps not the wedding, they attract Snuffalapagos.”

Hermione flushed and actually picked at her food a little bit more. Asking Luna about this particular beast wasn’t even a good idea. “Oh great, two of my best friends are going to try and set me up,” she muttered. 

The ginger rolled her eyes with a bit of a smile. “Oh, come now. The prospects can’t be _that_ bad,” she teased as she joined Luna's looking while Neville poured a bit more pumpkin juice for Hermione. 

“Zachariah Smith doesn’t make a good option,” Ginny muttered with a wrinkle of her nose. “What about Terry Boot?”

“Smart, but no. His conversation is about as dry as an empty ink well."

“Theodore Nott wouldn’t make a good option,” the blonde mused as she glanced around. “And you aren’t wanting to go with Dean or Seamus, are you?”

A sigh left her lips and she shook her head as she actually rested her head in her hand. She knew who she’d like to go to the party with, but that was not an option. It was only a matter of time before he actually got interested in another lady here at school. 

Despite it, she still glanced over at the Slytherin table for a moment, just letting her eyes sweep the table before she looked back at Ginny and Luna. “This really isn’t necessary,” She attempted to assure them. 

“It certainly is necessary. You know what might happen if you don’t have a date. The last time he dated you was a Slughorn party after all,” Ginny reminded, advising some caution. 

“No. No, absolutely not. That could not happen,” she stated firmly and actually glanced down the Gryffindor table in the direction of the man in question. He was so hard to deal with and the near obsession of going after someone he couldn’t have was astounding. 

Luna looked at her friend. “There’s always Zabini,” she said thoughtfully. “He seems to be looking this way,” she added, noting him at the Slytherin table.

Hermione simply shook her head at that. “Zabini would _not_ be a good choice.” That was the last thing she needed. Asking Zabini to be her plus one when he was best mates with Malfoy.

The blonde merely nodded. “You seem to be getting along with Draco Malfoy,” she said gently. “Why not ask him?” 

It was all she could do not to shout the word no or start blushing furiously. “Getting along doesn’t mean that he’d like to spend an evening he could have to himself with me. We see each other so often I’m sure he’d appreciate the space,” she said to her friend with a small smile before she drank more of her pumpkin juice. 

At least she figured he’d want the space. Showing up to that party with Draco would have rumors spread even further. She was doing him a favor despite actually enjoying the idea. 

“That doesn’t sound like a no though,” Ginny said, narrowing her gaze on her friend, having noted the lack of rejection of Hermione’s part and placing it on the Slytherin. 

Luna daintily bit at some toast. “Is he going to be there?” she asked. 

“It’s a no, Ginny,” she said simply enough, calmly. Even though part of her wanted to explain. _It’s easier this way anyway. Both of them would try to help in their own odd way._

She glanced over at the Slytherin table, scanning for Malfoy and whether or not he had a letter. An emerald envelope was next to his cup and she glanced back at Luna. “Potentially, since he was invited,” she sighed.

“Suit yourself,” Ginny responded with a sigh. “Guess we’ll have to dig deeper,” she scanned the Great Hall as if she’d spot some perfect candidate to set her friend with.

“Or I could just go alone,” she grumbled, though she said that a bit longer and she could feel eyes on her from their table. Oh, dear Merlin. “Please tell me that he isn’t looking at me…”

“Nothing wrong with taking yourself out,” Luna began, but Ginny was shaking her head.

“Don’t look, he’ll just make his way here,” she grumbled. It was like McLaggen knew when he was thought of let alone brought up.

“I’m….I’m going to go to the library. If you jinx him if he tries to follow me I will buy you something from your brother’s shop,” she promised Ginny as she grabbed her bag without finishing her food again and quickly moved to leave. 

Ginny Weasley did not need the bribe to hex someone, but it was appealing regardless. Given permission from the Head Girl and her best friend, well that was a bonus that had a wicked glimmer in her eyes. Even if he didn’t try to follow her friend, she had half a mind to curse him for being a git, but before she could draw her wand, McLaggen had vanished from her view. “Oh bugger,” she muttered.

Hermione was going up the stairs two at a time, just in case McLaggen tried to get to her to ask. He was likely going to the party again as well because of his connections, but she didn’t think she could survive another party near McLaggen. 

A few tables down, Draco was shoving his invitation in his bag and gritting his teeth. He looked at Nott and Zabini. “Give me a head start,” he grumbled, noticing Pansy making a beeline for him. “Five minutes,” he asked.

Nott glanced in the direction of Parkinson and couldn’t help but chuckle. “A diversion? Alright, Malfoy,” he drawled with a bit of a smirk. “I can give you ten if you ignore me sneaking off on an evening of my choosing,” he drawled. 

“You got it,” he promised, rushing off on the opposite side Pansy was coming down from. One more obstacle between them.

Nott leaned across the table, his voice echoing in the Great Hall. “Parkinson! Come here a moment. I think you should know something,” he smirked. He knew how much the girl loved knowing everything she could about goings on in the school. 

Hermione was up a few flights of stairs and while she hadn’t heard a hex or a shout, she really hoped that McLaggen wasn’t following her. But she didn’t want to look over her shoulder just in case. 

Once out the doors he had broken out into a run, knowing if he was lucky he’d get the whole ten, but most likely, she’d escape Nott. Seeing as she’d recently found him in the library, he figured it was unlikely that would happen again. She wouldn’t search him in the same place twice right?

Between the Head Girl and Head Boy was a McLaggen that was bound and determined to get another date with the brunette. He climbed the stairs and figured that she actually was going to the library. That was something that was pretty par for the course for Hermione after all. 

Speeding up his pace, the Gryffindor made his way to intercept her. The last thing he needed was Madam Pince ruining his attempts. 

“Hey ‘Mione,” he drawled with a smug corner smile as he stepped in pace with her.

Holding back a groan, she didn’t even glance at him. “McLaggen,” she greeted, trying to get some distance between them with the last name. “Can I help you?”

“You can call me Cormac,” he replied easily enough. “We’re not strangers.” Granted, their date hadn’t gone as expected, but he blamed Weaselbee. “I uh...noticed you got one of these too,” he flashed the corner of the emerald envelope in his robes.

Hermione offered a slight smile. “If you insist. Though I’d prefer you not shorten my name,” she said back. Apparently being subtle was not something that he could pick up on and she’d have to be mean soon. “I did….”

“I was at practice when it arrived, and I was glad to see you got one too,” he said drawing closer to her, his arm itching to wrap around her, but stopping shy. “Means I’ll see you there,” he purred, easing into it.

“I suppose I will. It is a party after all,” she replied shifting her bag on her shoulder as she counted to three in head. _Do not scream at the other lion. Do not make a scene. They already think you’re damaged enough._ She had to remind herself as she kept a calm demeanor.

From where Malfoy stood however, it looked rather intimate. The way the blond boy leaned and held an arm to the small of her back. In his mind at least, it appeared that way.

 _She deserves more than a coward,_ his mind taunted him at the sight of her with another lion. Of course he also couldn’t help but think her statement about not being that type of witch being utter shite. _For you? Definitely._ His inner monologue was out in strength. 

He inched closer behind them, careful to keep quiet.

Her pace had slowed and she was silently cursing. “Is there something I can help you with though?”

“Many things, I’m certain,” he grinned, not realizing just how that could come across when it was clearly meant a saucy comment. “I was hoping you’d join me to the party...as my date...again…”

Close enough to hear, Draco felt something coil in his gut. A heat he hadn’t felt in some time. As much as he had no plans to invite her himself, he also didn’t want to hear the rest. Focusing his mind he cast a silent hex on the other male. 

Before she could answer McLaggen, he turned to the side and burped, a slug falling from his lips as his eyes widened. The blond looked a little mortified and without another word, he rushed down the stairs and towards the infirmary. 

Hermione leaned back against the railing of the stairs and let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Merlin,” she sighed running a hand through her hair. 

“Problem with your _friend_ ,” Draco drawled, watching the poor sap pause to spit out a few more slugs before running off. 

“Barely a friend,” she glanced over at Draco and then arched a brow. Had he…? No. He had no reason to after all. Looking down the stairwell at the slugs that moved across the floor she couldn’t help but chuckle. “...At least that bought me time…”

He merely nodded, though he felt relief. It wasn’t his style to hit someone in the back that way, but then again he had intervened before and the git didn’t seem to get it. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for wizards like them was it? Courting was based on the idea that rejection would be likely, especially in the beginning. With how Pureblood marriages worked, it was the reminder of a witch’s power to pick her wizard, even if it was merely for show.

“Time?”

A sigh left her lips. “I have a feeling he’s convinced he can convince me to go with him to the Slug Club party,” she said as she continued to lean against the railing of the staircase, almost jerking as it started to move. Well, at least that would confuse McLaggen more.

“Ah.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Draco met her gaze. He supposed she could. “Hm?”

Her heart was hammering in her chest again. Stupid crush. “Do you think...we could go to the Halloween party together? As friends of course. And I’d owe you...I just really want to make it clear to McLaggen that I am _not_ going on another date with him...and I do usually like spending time with you.”

_Usually. Good going, Hermione. Leave in an for him to pick at that when it’s actually all the time except when you argue._

That had been unexpected to say the least. The Slytherin young man ran a hand through his hair as he dissected her words carefully before responding. “Are you...asking me to be your date?” he had needed to clarify, even if it meant potentially having her run off.

Part of him felt she should. Run off that is. Especially as he felt his innards coil, and not so much in an unpleasant manner, which told him it was just something else that didn’t belong to him. Good things rarely went how he wished, they most certainly didn’t just fall in his lap, and when they did, he had a way of ruining it.

Blush warmed her cheeks, something she did more lately than she had her other years in school. “What? No….maybe?” She fiddled with a strand of her hair as she took in another breath. “As...as friends. We’re at least friends. If we have to pretend to be a bit more friendly than that to keep McLaggen away...you did point out that we keep…” she trailed off and cleared her throat. 

She had helped save the wizarding world and she was having trouble asking for a date?! _Because you know he would much rather go with a pureblooded witch. Someone he could hold his head high with in wizarding society. You’re still an outsider._ She almost cringed at her own inner monologue. 

“I’d appreciate it...and I’d owe you a favour…” she responded glancing back up at him again. 

“I see,” he sounded thoughtfully. It felt like a trap. “I suppose I can,” he drawled, looking her over a few times. A favour from Granger could definitely come in handy.

Her heart was thumping in her chest. “...Thank you. I really appreciate it...and nothing too illegal for the favour,” she added with a smile, clearly joking a bit there. She’d already done some questionable things with Harry and Ron for years. 

He supposed that would require some planning on his part. “If you’re going to be my witch for that evening, we’ll have to go over some ground rules,” he said. “We can discuss expectations back at the tower before patrolling,” he sighed. He would have to collect his thoughts, figure what it was he wanted from her.

“I suppose that’s fair,” she said with a nod of her head as she tried to keep control of her expression. His witch. Even if just for an evening she felt her heart nearly skip at the prospect. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t been drawn this strongly to a guy...ever. 

“I’ll be back in our tower after I get some things done in the library. I’ll meet you in our common room and we can discuss once we leave,” she said politely with a small smile. 

He nodded. He had to go to the library too, or did he? “I’ll meet you there,” he said. No, he needed to get away from her to think this through. 

She gave a nod of her head with a smile before she moved back up the stairs with her heart thudding in her chest. What in the name of Merlin was she doing?


	24. Ground Rules

After getting himself some snacks and butterbeer from the kitchens, Draco had returned to the tower that housed his quarters with Grangers. At least there he knew he wouldn’t be bothered by the likes of Pansy. Much pacing had occurred as he had taken bites and sips. He was onto his tea, abandoning the idea of eating. Not only had Hermione asked him to be her date, but he’d agreed. What was wrong with him? A thought that kept inserting itself as he made certain preparations. An owl had been sent out to his tailor for one.

As much as Hermione had wanted to focus on her schoolwork, for the first time in years she had been almost too distracted to get anything done. What in the world had she done? Oh, Ginny would be there and Ginny would see them together. It was startling and more than a little concerning. 

Regardless of the thoughts that plagued her, she walked back into their common room with her bag just a bit heavier than it had been when she had left. “I’ll put my things down and then I’ll be ready to patrol,” she offered to the blond as she strode past him towards the door to her room. 

“I suppose we can talk while we do." So much for doing so beforehand. With some luck, the halls would be empty of rule breaking idiots.

As she came back out of her room, she ruffled her hair and offered a smile that seemed almost nervous. “..Might be easier to do while we walk. Everyone seems too busy trying to figure out who in their house got invited to Professor Slughorn’s party.”

That was indeed one thing going for them. He could look forward to seeing Pansy seethe that she wouldn’t be his plus one. “I know this is going to be hard for you, but I’m not kissing you at the party,” he began bluntly. After? Perhaps. Before? Negotiable.

That first comment had her blink as she stepped out of the portrait and glanced back at him. “Kissing in public will hardly be required,” she retorted even as her heart hammered in her chest. “So the first rule accepted. I’m assuming there’s a list…”

He wanted to point out that McLaggen had made her so desperate she had asked him out, but instead remained quiet. “Of course, I expect you have your own as well,” he said simply.

She nodded her head slightly at that. “...No implying anything...inappropriate about our relationship. If we can’t dissuade McLaggen without being crass there isn’t a point." It was bad enough they already sort of had an inappropriate relationship.

“Is Weasle so despicable that this has to be stated?” he demanded. “Honestly,” he shrugged.

“I’m covering my bases. All of the guys I hang out with seem to let their tongues move faster than their sense,” she said simply. It wasn’t a jab at him personally. 

Draco readjusted his robes. “My tongue might have gotten the best of me in private with you a few times this school year, but I’m not in the same category of _guy_ as Weaselbee or Pothead,” he warned. “I have standards.” Honestly, who did she think he was?

Hermione blushed a bit at that and fiddled with a few strands of hair. “Like I said, simply covering my bases,” she replied, shooting a look at him at the name calling...but she couldn't say she blamed him. “Your next rule?”

“We’re not announcing our going together until we’re there, in which case our entrance will do so for us,” he said. Since she wanted to be in the business of assuming, he could do the same. “I rather not stand weeks of gossip only for there to be a few weeks more of it,” he shrugged.

“Agreed. No announcing it,” she said simply. It had been one of her rules as well honestly. So, they were sort of on the same page. “Go on.”

“I believe we were alternating,” he stated, leaving her an opportunity to state a rule of her own. 

“Don’t insult my friends at this party and I won’t insult yours,” she said simply. 

It was a harder one to agree to. “Fine, but if they start I make no promises,” he warned. “You’ll stay by my side from start to finish,” he warned. He knew the second she left it, Pansy would swoop in. “And help me deflect any...uncomfortable prying, I’ll return the favour of course.”

From start to finish of this she’d be his witch, that actually made her heart skip slightly and she nodded her head. “Well, they won’t be here for Halloween...so just no insulting them. I can live with being at your side for the party.”

He blinked. “Ah you meant the Weasel and the chosen one. How about we avoid bringing them up all together."

“Slughorn might bring them up. Ginny typically will only snap if you call her something first,” she answered easily but gave a nod of her head. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to deal with many of his friends. 

Of course Slughorn would bring them up, which was part of why he had asked that they help each other shift topics when things got touchy.

“If anyone asks why we’re there together...how do we want to answer?”

He looked at her. “It seems like a rather dumb question, though I suppose it will arise,” he shrugged. “Why are we going together?” he asked her. “Beyond the obvious, that you’ll owe me a, not too illegal, favour?”

“Why are we?” She said with a sigh. “The obvious reason is to dissuade McLaggen,” she answered easily enough even as she blushed slightly. “But you’re intelligent and it won’t be an unpleasant experience to be there with you.”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and watched her for a moment. “I’m glad I’m your last resort,” he rolled his eyes. “Let’s not go with that, I’m not sloppy seconds,” he said flatly. “You need me, I’ll simply say you asked and I graciously accepted,” he took control of the narrative, it was better than whatever she was going on about.

Hermione let out a sigh. “You aren’t a last choice,” she murmured. Not in the least, but as soon as she said that she blushed a bit more. She nodded. “Simple enough to just say I asked. We can leave the why ambiguous…”

“Indeed,” he agreed, scanning the shadows in the distance. He swore something had moved, but heard nothing.

She didn’t notice the movement, but she kept walking down the stairs with him towards the dungeons, listening and watching the shadows. “Any other rules I should know?”

“I would rather you didn’t touch me,” he continued gently. It was a personal thing. “Beyond that, I of course want to make sure we match,” he added with a shrug.

At that she was a pale pink. _Of course he doesn’t want you to touch him. He just needed an itch scratched before…_ “I can manage that, and I think I can agree to us matching. You have always seemed to have good taste,” she responded, this time hearing a bump come from a nearby classroom. 

Before he could stop himself, he reached for his wand before taking another step, his fingers firmly curved around its hilt. 

“It’s probably just Peeves,” she glanced at him, but her hand was in her pocket and firmly wrapped around the grip of her wand as she moved towards the door. 

Hopefully. Force of habit had him holding onto his wand. After the last few years, it took more effort not to reach for it than otherwise. He took a few steps forward, cautious, allowing Granger to go a bit more forward. He wasn’t the brave type, he wasn’t about to stick his neck out first, and yet that part of him that didn’t want her hurt kept close. Close enough to change his mind.

As they walked into the classroom it looked normal enough, there were closed desks and the lights were off. She glanced around the room without a bit of hesitation as she drew her wand, a wordless lighting spell igniting the tip as one of the desks started to rattle. 

A spell he mirrored as he pulled out his wand and held it up. As he did that, she reached forward and opened the desk before taking a step back. She shouldn’t have. Instinct should have made her more defensive than that but the dark curls that started to come out of that desk froze Hermione in place. The dark colors of the dress and the crazy hair as the hand reached out of the desk had her heart starting to race as she honestly started to shake. The look in the woman’s eyes registered for just a moment. 

The sight of movement had him doing the unthinkable, his left arm reaching forward to push her behind him. A motion he had wanted to do time and time again in the manor but had never managed. If he hadn’t just touched Hermione, he would have been frozen by the sight before him. Her body falling to the ground in that outfit he had ingrained in his memory. The dark blue jeans, the white tee with that thick sweater and peacoat she wore. The arm was exposed, the wound freshly carved into the flesh, but there was a main difference. The paleness in her skin, the lack of rise in her chest. It knocked his breath out, made his grip on his wand falter the slightest bit. His jaw clenched despite the color draining from his cheeks.

“Riddikulus,” he hissed, needing it to change, to disappear, to go away.

The lack of meaning in the spell had no change happen, other than making blood start to run from the “d” in the word that had been carved into her arm. 

As her heart hammered in her chest she moved back around Draco, moving in front of him again. As it registered her there, it switched back to Bellatrix. The woman was letting out that crazy laugh as she looked at Hermione, the wand in her hand gripped tightly as she took a step forward. 

Fear roared through her but she took in a deep breath, her heart hammering even as a tear rolled down her face. She was dead. She was dead and Bellatrix Lestrange couldn’t hurt her anymore. She wouldn’t let her do this to her anymore.

“Riddikulus,” she spoke as she swished her wand. The woman burst into a pink dress with fairy wings and sparkling and looked confused. Enough to make her laugh a bit. That laugh sent the boggart back into the desk quickly. 

The moment the desk closed, Draco cursed it shut. They’d have to lock the classroom. That was easier to focus on than the fact that she knew. That she had seen. That she still saw his aunt, even though the woman was nothing more than dust.

“We should let the Headmistress know,” he said, his voice a bit scratchy.

Hermione simply nodded her head, but she moved to take a seat in one of the chairs and actually sank into the chair and closed her eyes as she took in a few deep breaths. Bellatrix was dead. She couldn’t harm her anymore. “Give me a moment,” she said quietly, her voice more shaky than she wanted it to be. Damn it. 

Rather than answer, he merely gave a nod. He could understand that, it was the same reason he wanted to bolt. 

Without even thinking about it, Hermione started to rub at her own arm. Her sleeve covered the mark but she was rubbing at it. Still too caught up on the sight of Bellatrix, and that laugh. Her voice still echoed in her head when she had nightmares. 

As he breathed, he took the time to compartmentalize. Shoving memories and ideas down into neat little boxes. _She could never truly like you, she fears your family,_ the snark in his mind reminded. It was the voice that kept him alive, the one that had pushed him through it all.

“I’ll meet you in our tower then,” he said quietly. It was easier this way. “I’ll see to it that this is dealt with.” Proactive. He had to be moving, to be doing things, anything.

The idea of being alone with her thoughts actually had her snap her hand out and take his hand. “Wait,” she called out, but almost winced at how fragile her voice sounded. _He wouldn’t want to help you. He said not to touch him._

Draco froze at the feel of her hand against his, that burning feeling filling him again until she started to release his hand. She looked back down and took in a deep breath before she nodded her head. It was better this way, with him getting distance from her to do what had to be done. 

“Nevermind,” she said, almost whispering the word as she got up, her grip on her wand shaky at best. 

He watched her for a moment, how shaken she was. “We’ll get you to the tower, I can write to McGonagall,” he responded gently.

Hermione glanced up at him and gave a nod of her head without saying a word, glancing at that desk. Through the pain and the fear there was something that was starting to click. He had seen her dead on the ground as a fear. 

His motions were cautious as he slowly guided her out of the classroom and into the hall. If he hadn’t a lifetime supply of chocolates in their common room, he might have suggested a stop by the kitchens. Having his hand on the small of her back at least reminded him they were in the present and she was very much alive. 

The brunette didn’t move away from him at all and actually tucked her wand into the inner pocket of her robes as she walked along with him. Chocolate was something that she needed. The words of Remus Lupin stayed with her at times like this and despite the fear part of her wanted to apologize. Apologize for needing help and feeling this way, like she had when Ron had no clue how to deal with her. 

For the entirety of their walk, he remained quiet. No snide remarks, or jeering like he might have in previous years. He handled the frame’s password, and focused his energy on getting her back into the tower. Every step a tangible outlet to keep his mind busy.

“Sit here,” he ordered, settling her on the couch.

As she sat down she seemed to get a small bit of herself back as she curled her legs up to her chest. “Bossy,” she quietly accused, but she was still listening. 

Pulling his wand out he eyed her. “Very,” he assured, summoning a few pieces of chocolate for her. “I’ll get tea going, you eat, and none of that faking it you do,” he warned. Shock was something he knew how to deal with, as was terror. Dishing it was one thing, but handling the aftermath, he’d done a lot more of that than he cared to admit.

He turned to the fire and set a kettle on before using transfiguration to create two beautifully crafted teacups on the coffee table.

Looking over at him she fiddled with a wrapped piece of chocolate. “...I don’t fake eating,” she attempted to argue, but even as she did she popped the piece of chocolate in her mouth. It tasted familiar. As cliche as it sounded, it tasted like hope. 

“No, you just rearrange your plate so no one notices,” he sighed, taking a seat on the nearby armchair. “There’s another rule for the party, I expect empty plates.”

“You’re going to force me to eat?” She asked with slightly widened eyes as she looked at him, popping another piece of chocolate in her mouth. 

He eyed her. “Did I stutter?”

A sigh left her lips at that. “No…,” she responded with a shake of her head but then glanced up at him. “Then no lying. If you don’t want to answer something you can say that...but no lying to me as a rule,” she stated, meeting his gaze. 

“I’ve never lied to you,” he sounded insulted by the accusation.

“Have you not?” She asked curiously, looking at him cautiously. Because if he was telling the truth, she was about to ask a question or two. If only to get out of her own head. 

“Maybe the teeth thing,” he offered. Mostly the truth hurt more than lies. Skirting the truth, that was a different story entirely.

A slight roll of her eyes was the answer before she looked down and then back at him. “...These chocolates aren’t from Honeydukes...but they taste familiar,” she spoke quietly as she kept his gaze. 

“My mother sends them regularly. Some chocolatier from Belgium she enjoys,” he answered simply enough.

“So not a common chocolate,” she murmured thoughtfully before she popped another one in her mouth. Thinking about that boggart of his, probably just one fear of many if she would guess, she glanced towards the fire. “You gave them to me before...didn’t you?”

Malfoy bit into a piece of the chocolate, having a hard time swallowing it down as she spoke. “I had my elf add them, yes."

Hermione mulled that over, the image of herself on the ground in such detail… “Why?”

“Chocolate has properties that I felt were needed in your condition,” he tried to keep it less personal, but she was astute, he knew he could only hold her off so long before she would chip at the facade. “Let’s face it, your friends wouldn’t have lasted without you,” he said in an undertone, as though even now, the words could cost him his life. He wasn't able to look at her. His gaze moved to the kettle, going up to fetch it as the water boiled to pour them each a cup. 

It still didn’t click, but it made sense. _You were the first one his age in that house. He identified you. It’s guilt._ Her inner monologue taunted her. Of course he couldn’t care, he had other things to worry about. She watched him move to pour them tea and nodded her head. “...I did need them,” she started and then glanced down at her lap. “It wasn’t your fault, you know…”

“I know,” he barely managed the words above a whisper as he handed her a cup. He sat in his armchair with his own. Whether he was answering the fact that she needed them or her latter statement was something he left unclear.

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t his fault, but he also knew that that didn’t absolve him.

Taking the cup, she took a sip of the tea and stayed curled up on the couch, watching him a moment. “Good. You did what you had to,” she said attempting to reassure some. Clearly he just felt guilty and her screams from nightmares didn’t help. 

If Draco hadn’t identified her, then Bellatrix or his mother would have. There was no way to avoid it. 

That was the simplest way to put it. He’d had to do it. Just like he’d had to kill Dumbledore. Just like he’d had to fix that cabinet. Just like… Rather than answer he sipped his tea. 

“You can eat as many of those chocolates as you want."

His mother sent more than he could eat, and honestly, it was easier than pursuing their current line of discussion. With a flick of his wand he cast a spell to summon quill and parchment. Keeping busy was the only thing keeping him together.

Hermione simply nodded her head and sipped at her tea before looking into the fire. Of course he didn’t want to talk about it or anything. She was going to use that potion later tonight because she _knew_ that the nightmares were gonna be bad. 

After penning a note for the headmistress, he muttered another spell which folded the parchment into a small paper bird that zoomed out to its target. “You should rest,” he said gently. “If you need a sleeping draught…” he offered quietly. The last thing he wanted to do was crowd her.

She sipped at her tea and gave a slight shake of her head. “I have a few...hopefully it works well enough tonight,” she responded. There were a few sleeping draughts she had though. Standing up, she took her tea with her and grabbed a few more pieces of chocolate before she started towards her room. 

The idea of being alone was an unpleasant one, but it was one she was learning to deal with. Looking over her shoulder she nodded her head. “...Try to have a good night, Draco,” she said quietly before going into her room. 

He wanted to scoff. There was no way he’d manage a good night, but he remained quiet. It wasn’t her problem. He wasn’t her problem. “You too." He doubted she heard him with the distance. 

It was a while longer before he made it back to his chambers, casting spells to ensure whatever the night brought she wouldn’t hear it. He knew where his dreams would lead him, and he did everything to extend the inevitable.


	25. Nightmares

The sleeping draught that they had crafted in potions was something she felt the need to experiment with this evening. Where most sleeping draughts offered deep slumber, they often had her wake up from her own screams. Despite prior attempts and failures, she had hope that this one was crafted well enough to keep the dreams at bay. 

At first, it was promising, sending her into a deep sleep. There were no dreams to perturb her in that state of rest. Simply dressed in another nightgown and bundled in her covers, she was out for a good two hours. After which the soothing effects of the potion wore off, and all she could hear was that mad laughter. 

Bellatrix’s insanity was loud and invasive, filling all of her senses as time went on. She could smell the perfume on her skin, feel her hair on her face, and the feeling of her hands gripping her and holding her down. And then she felt the dig of the magical knife from her wand digging into her skin, cutting her open anew just as Draco had seen from his boggart. Just as she had in reality, she managed to keep her voice to herself at first, until there was a deep stinging added to the carving of the letters. 

A scream pulled from her throat, loud and panicked and pained. It was something that almost woke her up, but the potion did a decent job that kept her still asleep. Trapped in unconsciousness. 

From his quarters, Draco could hear her scream. It had him standing from his seat at his desk, taking the six steps to the door where he paused. His hand lingered on the handle as he made his decision, swallowing down his pride as he exited and rushed down a flight of stairs, across their common room, and up another to her side of the dormitory. 

The brunette had thrashed in her sleep, whimpers and cries actually leaving her as the potion kept her under. It was a decently strong sleeping draught it would seem. And there were a few tears rolling down her cheeks in her sleep.

At the continuation of the sounds, he opened the door and stepped in, padding through her room to the bed. “Hermione,” he said, nudging her lightly. 

That nudge had her jerk and she woke on a gasp with wide eyes and fear clear in her chocolate hues as she sat up. Her breathing was uneven and her arms wrapped around herself tightly. She glanced at him as she attempted to catch her breath and get her bearings. 

“...It’s not real….” she spoke quietly. 

“Just a dream,” he responded in an equally soft tone, sitting on the side of her bed. He was careful not to touch her as he assessed the situation.

Her shoulders almost shook, her breaths still uneven as she curled her arm against her stomach, not wanting to look at the marks there as she tried to even out her breathing. “...Felt real."

He looked at the bottle on her nightstand, recognizing it as the labors of their work. “Probably the valerian,” he said thoughtfully. Definitely an ingredient to reconsider now that he thought about it. His lips remained taut in a line. With a muttered spell he conjured water in the cup at her bedside. “Drink,” he ordered. 

Taking the cup, she took in a slow breath and sipped at it. “Well...that’s unfortunate and not helpful,” she muttered, glancing at the bottle for a moment.

“Not particularly,” he replied honestly. None of this was pleasant by any means, but at least he could help ease one of the side effects.

“Makes both of us,” she responded just as honestly with a sigh as she took another sip from the water and actually brushed her other hand back through her hair. 

Draco didn’t move from the spot he sat beside her, watching as she drank. He was glad he’d bothered with a shirt that night. A soft emerald green tee to contrast the silk of his black pajama pants. “Move over,” he said gently.

The question actually had her blink at him a few times as she looked at him. “...Excuse me?”

“I asked you to move over,” he said gently.

That gentle request surprised her, but she did move over enough for him, the shock clear on her expression. 

Once she moved, Draco peeled the comforter over to settle in beside her, leaving a sheet between them.With a quick duplicating charm he made himself a pillow to prop him up. “Try not to drool on me,” he drawled, settling against the headboard.

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. “You can’t be serious,” she spoke with a bit of shock, putting her glass on the bedside table. “And I don’t drool in my sleep,” she grumbled, a light blush dusting her cheeks. 

“If you rather be alone…” he said with a bit of a shrug.

“No,” she said a bit too quickly and blushed a bit more. “...No. I just...I won’t be sleeping for awhile.”

His body settled a bit more at her side. “You should try,” he purred. Somehow he doubted she wanted to talk, and he wasn’t going to pry. They both knew what she had been dreaming about. There was no need to be crass and bring it up.

She glanced over at him before a sigh left her lips. “Not exactly relaxed,” she replied with a sigh, rubbing at her arm now as she continued to stay sitting up. 

“You can...get closer,” he offered quietly. Though he wasn’t fond of touching, the whole point of him being there was to help her not feel alone, to have some subconscious realization that she wasn’t back at the manor.

Looking back up at him she chewed at her bottom lip. He was being so...kind to her. _Of course he is. He wants you to sleep so he can._ “...I think I need more tea. Or a bath. Or I won’t be able to relax after…” The nightmares. 

“I can make more tea,” he said gently. “Are you going to be okay in the bath? Sleeping draughts have side effects.” The last thing he needed was her drowning herself.

“I haven’t had an issue with a sleeping draught before,” she sighed and glanced toward the door to the bath that connected their rooms. “....you mentioned sharing before...if you’re sharing it to keep me from slipping…” she trailed off. 

Draco perked a brow. “I suppose."

Hermione was blushing even more but she gave a nod of her head. “Just...helping each other,” she responded, getting out of the other side of her bed to grab a towel. Picking up her wand she soundlessly had the water in the adjoining room start...with all the bubbles. 

He nodded. “I...I’ll meet you in…” he assured, reaching to scratch the back of his neck. He’d have to get things from his room.

She nodded her head at that. “I...Yeah,” she responded with a sigh as she went ahead of him into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She stripped out of the nightclothes she was in then, putting them on the shelf near her door, and then walked down into the large bath, bubbles in shades of purple and blue filling the tub and helped obscure her from view as she tied her hair up on her head. 

Once in his room he grabbed a few things and changed into a robe to not have to undress in front of her. He had a proper set of pajamas that would cover his arm, if only to ensure she wouldn’t wake to his dark mark staring her down. Settling his items down on the counter he walked to the edge of the bath, giving her a look and clearing his throat to get her to turn so he could get in.

The clearing of his throat got her attention and she blushed a bit more before she turned her back so she was looking in the opposite direction, staying in her seat and covered by the bubbles. Her heart was hammering in her chest again which was doing the opposite of what they wanted. 

With her back turned, he shed his robe and stepped into the water, walking towards her quietly. Each step taken to disturb the water as little as possible, as if that would make it any less odd.

She kept her head turned away, her cheeks bright red, thankfully it was easy to say it was due to the heat of the water. Not that it was because she knew he was getting closer to her with each step and there wasn’t a barrier between them.

When he was within her reach he paused. “You can...turn,” he began in a hushed tone. “If you want,” he added. Though she had asked him to be there, he was certain just like for the party, he wasn’t her first choice. _Convenience_ , his mind reminded.

Hermione gave a nod of her head and took in a slow breath as she turned back around, not looking at him but just leaning back against the edge of the tub as she stayed seated in the water. “..Thanks." 

“It’s what friends are for…” his voice didn’t sound too certain in regards to that statement. Despite it, he took a seat beside her, with some space between them.

A small smile curved her lips and she chuckled slightly. “That they are...helping each other is part of it.”

His hand settled on the submerged ledge between them. “Hm,” he sounded in agreement with a nod.

Her hand settled on the ledge and she let her head fall back against the ledge as she tried to relax in the water with a soft sigh. “I might just need to brew a few drafts of dreamless sleep…”

“At the cost of deep sleep,” he said quietly. “Might work a few nights, but your faculties will lessen,” he said more from first hand knowledge than textbook.

“I already don’t get much of that. I just miss sleep,” she admitted quietly. Rarely did she sleep for more than a few hours each night. Except for a few exceptions. 

It was something he understood. Something he felt on a level many their age could feel. The irritability that came with it didn’t help. “I know the feeling”.

She nodded. She figured that he did. A soft sigh left her lips and she tried to relax, sinking further into the water and making her hand slide unknowingly closer to his. 

At the feel of their fingers brushing he remained incredibly still. He wasn’t sure what to do or say. “So our friendship includes bathing and sleeping together…” he said feeling like it sounded worse than it was.

Further blush filled her cheeks at that and her hand stayed very still against his. “It seems so...but it sounds terrible when you say it that way.”

“Wasn’t so long you were chiding me for kissing,” he shrugged. “Quite contradictory.” At least if she was annoyed she wouldn’t be envisioning his aunt torturing her.

A soft groan left her lips at that. “I didn’t intend for any of it to happen….sleeping next to friends isn’t weird though at least,” she replied with a small note of irritation. But she still didn’t pull her hand from his. 

He supposed after last year it probably wasn’t. Maybe that was part of the issue. Being alone. It made him hyper aware of her fingers against his. “If you say so,” he responded quietly. 

“I do. Sharing a tent with Harry and Ron for months only afforded so much privacy." Could she really compare the two? Once they were back in her room she could. 

Draco had nothing. It wasn’t something he knew. Even tents for his family were spacious. Unsure what to say he merely bobbed his head, allowing a finger to soothe along one of hers. 

That light touch to her hand actually had her relax a bit more and a slow sigh left her lips. She actually let her hand brush his a bit more, moving it closer. There was comfort in that brief bit of touch. 

Though nudity had never bothered him, especially with a witch, the more she brushed against him, the more he felt aware of their predicament. “Careful, I might misinterpret the type of witch you are again,” he drawled, though not as snappy as he might be.

“I’m just touching your hand, Malfoy and the bubbles are keeping this from being entirely inappropriate,” she countered even as her cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. He just had to say something. 

“Well you do keep kissing me,” he pointed with a hint of amusement in his features as he turned to look at her.

A sigh left her lips. “And you keep kissing me,” she countered as she turned her head to look at him with a raised brow. 

“Sometimes,” he agreed. “Not tonight."

Those two words shouldn’t have disappointed her. She shouldn’t _want_ to kiss him. But she did. “We probably shouldn’t,” she agreed as she glanced away. 

“Definitely,” he corrected. “I’m putting you to bed to sleep,” he reminded quietly. No more, no less. Seeing her shaken and terrified hadn’t exactly been a turn on.

“Well I didn’t think you were putting me to bed any other way,” she retorted, blushing a bit more. Dear Merlin. Did he really have to make her think about… _that_? At least she wasn’t thinking about the manor. 

He eyed her a moment. “I rather be clear,” he shrugged his shoulders, though his fingers weaved with hers.

Hermione took in a slow breath and actually squeezed his hand. “...Just helping me. Making sure I don’t pass out and drown and helping soothe my nightmares. Just friendship.”

For the night, that was all he would do. Rather than say something to offend, he nodded. 

She actually squeezed his hand and then let go. “I think I’m ready to get out,” she said softly. He could either move past her and turn around or keep his eyes closed. 

With a nod, he slowly removed his hand from hers and turned to offer her privacy. “Let me know when I can get out."

As he turned, she moved around him and stood up once she was out of his field of vision. With her back to him, she strode up the steps and grabbed her towel to dry off a little before pulling on her panties and the nightgown over her head. “You can get out,” she called as she quickly walked back into her room. 

Once alone, he took a few moments to just breathe before stepping out. He slipped his night clothes back on and cast a few spells to clean up after them. The bath was draining, his slippers were settling before him, and soon enough, he was joining Hermione Granger back in her quarters. Every step that took him closer to her bed seemed to take an eternity. In his years at Hogwarts, he had imagined such a thing on many occasions, but never like this. Stood at her bedside he shed his slytherin colored silk robe and hung it on one of the posters to have it on hand.

The Gryffindor had pulled back the covers on his side, they were both adults and both clothed, and she had slipped under the covers and had worked a little bit of a hair serum into her hair to keep it from frizzing once she had let it down. She finally was starting to get tired, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep, but she was still afraid of her dreams. 

Quietly he had climbed into the bed. It would be a tight fit, but they would manage. Once settled in, he pulled the blankets over his shoulders. “So,” he murmured. “Do you want to…” he offered, not quite finishing his statement.

“Want to…?” She needed him to be clear here as she glanced over at him, nestling under the blankets and just barely holding back a yawn. 

There was no way he was using the c word. “Do you want me to hold you,” he said, keeping cool, composed. He kept his mind collected, the way Severus had taught him, though he’d had a knack for it naturally.

That actually made her blink slightly in surprise and she couldn’t help but blush. “...Are you offering?” She asked carefully, not wanting to make it seem like she was pushing for it. 

“Pretty sure I just did."

She bit down on her bottom lip gently before she gave a nod of her head and actually shifted closer to him. It would help her feel like she wasn’t alone and if the nightmares did come back, hopefully it would help. 

Keeping his wits as best he could he inched closer, slowly settling an arm around her center. He was careful not to touch any part of her inappropriately, and kept his arm over the comforter as he kept her close. “Comfortable?” he shifted to not be eating her hair in the process.

A small smile curved her lips at that subtle shift and it was something that _almost_ made her laugh. But she closed her eyes and breathed in. He always smelled crisp, like apples and the fall air, and she nodded her head. “Mhmm, you?” 

“I...I think so,” he responded. “Sleep well,” he added quietly.

“Sleep well, Draco,” she said quietly, actually curling in a bit closer as she already started to drift off to sleep, exhaustion winning out. 

When she fell asleep in his arms, he never thought that this would become something to happen more often. That every night he would hear her scream, he would find himself in her bed like this.


	26. Build Up

Halloween was drawing closer, and with it, the Slughorn Party he had given his word to escort the Gryffindor princess to. Nights were growing shorter and shorter for the Slytherin Head Boy, as he found himself crossing the common room much more often than he had envisioned when he’d joined her to sleep the first night. Although he could have slept, and probably should have, fear of his own dreams had kept him awake, or in very shallow sleep with her in his arms. Whether it was her presence, or a lack of trust when it came to himself, he wasn’t sure.

Truth be told, he didn’t mind it so much, but he needed to rest, and had things to catch up on. Including responding to his tailor to ensure he and Granger would match for the Slug Club dinner.

After skipping half a day’s worth of classes to sleep, he poured himself into his tasks.

Hermione had been handling classes without her partner for the day, actually taking even more in detail notes that were broken down further because of that. While she wasn’t sure what it was that Draco was doing, she was rather certain that it was something important. She crossed her fingers that he wasn’t getting sick. If he got sick then she was back at square one with the Slug Club party, which she was sort of looking forward to now.

As she arrived back to the tower, she shouldered her bag a bit more and walked over to their common room desk and started to pull out the notes she had taken in their class. Rather than simply letting him copy them, she went ahead and duplicated them. 

When the blond finally emerged from his quarters, he went to sit down in the common room where he noticed the brunette pouring over notes. “Busy day in class?” he asked as he saw the sheer amount of handwritten parchment before her.

“Busy enough. But…,” she trailed off as she stacked the duplicates of the notes and passed them over to the blond with a slight smile. “Duplicated notes for you in a bit more detail than usual.”

Surprise tugged at his features as he stared at her. “You...duplicated your notes…” His head tilted as he kept that steely gaze of his on her. If she’d been a Slytherin, he would have expected one of two things, a debt or an attempt to sabotage. “I thought you didn’t believe in copying notes…” he asked carefully, trying to find the angle. Gryffindor or not, he expected some form of play.

“I’ve copied notes for my friends before when they missed class, just not if they hadn’t paid attention in class,” she explained as she pulled out a book for another paper that needed to be started. “So these are for you, but if you want to write your own from them instead….” She shrugged and drew out a quill and an ink well.

He took them, perhaps a bit more quickly than he’d have wanted. “I’ll take them,” he replied, swallowing down his pride. There was still the slightest bit of caution to him as he watched her before looking over the notes. Her handwriting was so neat, and meticulous, every letter carefully penned. 

“Good,” she replied with a bit of smugness before a crack of a house elf was heard carrying a tray with sandwiches and crisps that were placed on the table. She smiled at the elf and murmured a thank you before she glanced at the blond. “Figured you hadn’t eaten.”

Now he was downright suspicious. “Notes, food…” he eyed her. “It’s definitely not my birthday,” he thought out loud, trying to decipher exactly what was going on. This was new territory, even for him. It wasn’t like they’d slept together, not that way, though she had been having more nightmares since the boggart.

“When is your birthday exactly?” She inquired rather than answering that eyeing look as she pulled out her parchment and started to organize her ideas for the paper she was going to write for Defense Against the Dark Arts. That was a subject she knew rather well because of her experiences and Harry’s knowledge on the subject. 

“June,” he shrugged. Not that it mattered. Instead he made his way to the table and grabbed a small sandwich before sitting down on one of the armchairs. “We have another project don’t we,” he asked with a bit of a mutter. It had to be unpleasant since she was buttering him up, or perhaps they’d gotten a grade that wasn’t to their standards? 

Hermione picked up a sandwich and nibbled at it as she looked over her notes and the assignment. “We have another paper. Five feet worth of parchment. It isn’t terrible but it will be a bit of work. I got a few books from the library,” she explained. 

“I see,” he looked over her notes some more. “What are the topic choices?” he asked.

“Well, the choices are between what makes someone able to resist an Imperius curse, why creating Inferi is considered Dark Magic, or the history of the utilization of Dementors,” she explained and tried not to fidget. None of these topics were really pleasant, but they’d manage. 

Those were all topics he knew more about than he cared to. “And which was your preferred topic?” he asked gently. With that for homework, he knew sleep wasn’t in his future by any means.

Preferences on this weren’t going to prevent her nightmares. They were all topics that all of them had a bit too much experience with. Except the genuine seventh years. She ran her hand through her hair with a sigh. “Probably either topic about the dark creatures.”

“Dark,” he said quietly. “I can send word back home for a few tomes,” he added with a shrug. “I’m fairly certain there are a few on the creation of inferi,” he thought out loud. “I rather avoid dementors, we’ve seen enough of those for a lifetime,” he shrugged.

“Agreed. I’m not particularly fond of dementors,” she admitted and almost shuddered. Honestly? If she had known of anyone that was fond of dementors it would be more shocking than not. “Inferi likely won’t be covered by many of our classmates either.”

“I’m almost surprised you weren’t going for the imperius curse, given my...knowledge of it,” he said quietly. In sixth year, he’d been quite capable of it, by now he didn’t want to get sent to Azkaban for one.

“Considering the history of that curse with this school, I figured it would be best to avoid it. Unless you’re saying that you want to write about the Imperius curse,” she offered. He had said she took over a little too much. 

“I’m not opposed,” he said. “Though it would be a bit too easy to surpass the five feet length requirement,” he ran a hand through his hair. He felt the topic was there because of him, because of what he’d done. A punishment to hear about it over and over again.

“Alright, so Inferi or the Imperius curse?” Either way, she’d be able to write it. “The upside is if you write about the Imperius curse is that, in theory, they can’t keep throwing it in your face if you’re the one bringing it up.”

The school populace did so like having a villain, and he made a rather good one. At least she didn’t see him that way anymore. “Given we have to withstand it before year end, it might not be a bad idea,” he offered. “Less vile than inferi if you ask me.” Raising the dead was a gritty task, and one he was glad never having had to take part in.

Hermione gave a nod of her head. At least if they wrote it on this topic then they could also prove that she wasn’t exactly under Draco’s sway, other than…No. Best not to think about that. “Then we’ll write about the Imperius curse, focusing on the spell’s conception as well as how people are able to resist it and why.”

“And on technique,” he said. “Most people will use normal tactics to express their point, but with my first hand experience, we can paint a more accurate portrayal on what exactly is required for it,” he expressed cooly, detached. He had to stick to facts for this to work. “If my account ever bothers you, we can always take a break,” he reminded. Just talking about it, he had forgotten about the sandwiches or the appetite he’d built from having skipped eating since the previous night.

The brunette managed to actually finish one of the sandwiches before she felt her stomach heave just a bit. She was going to attempt to eat a bit more during this, but she nodded her head. “I will...but you aren’t the same as you were then, Draco. I know that,” she attempted to reassure. 

“No, but I’m also not not him either,” his voice was low. A person didn’t just change, actions didn’t die, they didn’t get negated. They were just assimilated into whatever transition.

A sigh left her lips at that and she tried not to argue. He wouldn’t believe her anyway. Draco had no reason to believe what Hermione had to say. “It’s certainly complicated.”

“Most things are,” he agreed. “When’s the paper due?” He asked to shift the topic without diverging too far from it.

“We have a week to get it written. It’ll be due right before Slughorn’s party,” she replied easily and glanced over at him. Part of her wanted to ask about what she was to wear to match him but he had said he would handle it. Which was odd itself and made her curious as to how he had gotten her measurements. 

He nodded. Part of him feared she’d rather McLaggen when they were done with the paper, but he hadn’t lied to her, and he wasn’t about to start. “We can get started on it over breakfast, perhaps keep it earlier in the day, save something lighter for evenings…” He didn’t want to feed her nightmares.

A small smile curved her lips at that. “If you want to. I can discuss this curse a bit more easily than the cruciatus curse,” she reassured, though even naming the curse had a little bit of that light fade from her expression in favor of a bit of fear as she tried not to shudder. 

“I need time,” he explained gently. “Invading someone’s mind isn’t easy,” he explained in an undertone. “The Cruciatus Curse is brute force,” he said with obvious disdain. “The Imperius Curse is much more insidious. It’s enforcing your very will on another, it’s thriving on them following your every command,” he tried not to sound like he enjoyed it, but he had, just like he enjoyed being in control.

A slight shudder went down her spine at the way he described it, but she knew that he couldn’t possibly have enjoyed doing that. That he was better than that, had to be. “Both have a rather dark reputation. Practicing fighting off the Imperius curse wasn’t exactly pleasant but neither was the Cruciatus Curse....I suppose my experience with one outside of the classroom may have made it seem more fearsome than the other,” she tried to explain as her fingers actually rubbed at her sleeve covered scar. 

“Many claimed to be under the imperius curse after the first fall of the Dark Lord,” he said. It had been a coward's way out. “I’m certain it was the same after the latest war,” he muttered more to himself than anything.

A sigh left her lips and she nodded. “More than likely. I wouldn’t be surprised. Though I think it takes more bravery not to hide behind that.”

“I’m not brave if that’s what you’re trying to hint at,” he said flatly. 

“Braver than some. And bravery looks different to everyone, Draco,” she replied simply. 

He felt like she was looking for a silver lining where he was quite certain there was none. He couldn’t answer, couldn’t bring himself to do much more than raise his shoulders and let them fall. 

“Anything else I missed?” He asked.

“Other than some foolish gossip, no. Not really.” 

“Does it involve me?”

A sigh left her lips. “A few people seem to think that I jinxed you and that’s why you were out of class.”

“Perhaps I should visit Madam Pomfrey then,” he half joked. At least it wasn’t the worse he had heard.

“Maybe you should. Clearly I did a number on you,” she almost laughed. 

He imagined the matron would be most discontent with him. “Perhaps before class, professors will expect a note after all,” he drawled.

“Oh, they most certainly will. Can’t have the Head Boy skipping class or the Head Girl hexing him after all.”

“I’ll make sure to have Pomfrey run every test,” He suppressed a bit of a laugh under his breath.

That actually made her laugh a bit more and she smiled at him. It was free of any awkward feeling or shadow, just genuine amusement. 

A sight he didn’t often get to see on her features. It was nice, the way her face lit up when she laughed.

The way he looked at her she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit more and look back up at him. “What? Did I get frosting from a petit four on my face or something?”

“No,” he shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. “Though impressive you can pronounce it,” he praised lightly. Perhaps she had more talents than he knew.

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “I can speak French, Malfoy. I summered there with my family,” she explained, the praise actually nice from him. 

“Mother has a pied-a-terre in Paris,” he responded. “I suppose we have that in common.” It was part of growing up a Black, even if the namesake had died with his first cousin once removed.

“I suppose we do. It makes me wonder what else we have in common,” she mused as she glanced down at her notes. 

They both bled red, not that he was going to mention that. “I suppose we’ll find out.” With how often they saw each other, and the increase in side conversation they were having of late, it seemed impossible for them not to.

Hermione nodded her head. They had time and the party would likely provide another opportunity for them to get to know each other a bit better. “You’re right about that.”

Somehow he still doubted it would help how she came to view him.

“Are you wanting a break from our patrols as well or do you think that we can cover that before doing other homework this evening?” 

“I think I can manage,” he nodded. He’d had a bit of sleep, although it had been tumultuous despite exhaustion. “Just had to get some things done,” he admitted.

“Dare I ask what things?” She attempted to joke as she moved to stand, stretching a bit. They had about an hour or two before their own patrol would be due to happen. But they could talk, wander, or attempt to eat a bit more. 

He shrugged. “Just a few things,” he said, taunting her. “Nothing you should be worried about, not really,” he teased her some more. “Had to get some things ready for the upcoming dinner,” he added on a more serious note. “And some readings I skipped.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at that and raise a brow. “Not going to tell me how we’re going to match for this party, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he grinned. “It’ll suit you,” he promised. He couldn’t have her looking bad on his arm. On that note, he rose from his seat, grabbing a small plate of sandwiches. There was no point in letting them go to waste. 

Taking another sandwich, she actually started to take bites out of it. The first time in a while she had taken a second one as she walked over to the fireplace. “Alright, Draco, I’ll trust you.”

At that he stared at her a moment. There were many things he expected to hear from her, but that wasn’t one of them. “Are you sure you’re feeling well?” he asked. “Perhaps I’m the one the school should be claiming hexed you,” he chuckled.

“I’m trusting that however we match it isn’t horrid. It isn’t like I’m trusting you in the forbidden forest,” she teased as she looked over at him as she took another bite of her sandwich. She actually had an appetite for once. 

He took a few bites of his own sandwich. “Point taken,” he ceded.

“Now I think they might be right and I hexed you without realizing. Did you just say I made a point?” She teased with a bit more of a smile. 

He looked at her pointedly. “You make a great deal of points, as do I, probably why our papers are such a success,” he reminded her. “I never thought you a moron,” he added. “Except perhaps in your personal matters, definitely,” he continued, thinking about Ron for one.

“Oh, we really shouldn’t get into personal choices that we think are moronic that the other has made,” she cautioned lightly as she shook her head with a small smile and took another bite of her food. “But thank you...never thought you were a moron either. You’re part of the reason I pushed so hard to get top grades…”

“Lackeys are much different than friends,” he pointed out, it was easier than the obvious that itched beneath his sleeve, but that hadn’t been much of a choice either had it? “But I’m glad I kept you on your toes,” he added, rather proud of himself. He’d definitely pushed himself to keep his top spot wherever he could.

A bit more of a grin curved her lips. “Of course you did. You’re the only one that got close to my scores,” she teased lightly. 

“Or perhaps you’re the only one that could keep up with me,” he said gently. It was easier to shine the light on the outlier than what he represented. He’d had to fight for every praise, at least after his father had fallen from grace.

“Hmm, seems we’ll have to agree to disagree,” she countered with a smile before she finished that second sandwich. 

He wanted to remind her he’d fixed a damned vanishing cabinet on his own, but held his tongue. Instead, he indulged in another sandwich. 

That look made her smile a little bit more, making it more than a little clear she was messing with him. She picked up a petit four and stretched. “We should start patrols soon.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a sigh, taking a few crisps in his hand before rising from his seat.

She led the way to the portrait that would lead them back to the hall and popped the small cake in her mouth. The more rest she got, the more of an appetite she was starting to get again. It was strange knowing that he helped with that.


	27. The Party

Owls had flown into the tower to deposit a number of boxes on Hermione’s bed during class. Neatly towering for her to return to before the party. Each artfully wrapped as any such item sent to the Malfoys was. Black paper and silver strings. A simple note on top with two carefully penned words. _For tonight._

Hermione had simply gone by the Great Hall before the dinner party to check on Neville and Luna, knowing that Ginny would be at the party. After checking in with them though, she was feeling rather nervous as she stepped through the door to her own room and saw all of those boxes there. 

Closing the door behind her, she looked over the simple note with a small smile and put it on her desk before she started opening boxes. It was impressive, and a little startling. The green dress inside wasn’t too low cut, more of a scoop. The cap sleeves were tasteful and the length went just a little past her knees. Well, she knew the Malfoys had good taste but she didn’t know what she had been expecting. 

She changed into the dress and used a spell for her hair to be in neat curls before she pinned it in a sort of side bun with a braid holding it in place. She ignored the ring included but did put on the snake ear cuff and the ornate S necklace around her neck. It seemed that the lioness would be in serpent’s colors for the evening. A statement was apparently going to be made, although what it was going to say, she wasn’t exactly certain. 

The shoes had serpents around the heel and were black on top but the same emerald as her dress underneath. Everything was done in such painstaking detail. She smudged a bit of eye shadow onto her eyelids, a mix of silver and black so that her brown eyes didn’t look _too_ dark, and a fairer lipstick than probably most Slytherin ladies would want on her lips. Once satisfied with the look, she took in a deep breath and strode out of her room and into their common room. 

For some time, Draco had stood by the fireplace as he waited for his date. It hadn’t taken too long for him to put on his suit and dress robes. A mix of a matte black with satin accents, the green woven into the look pulled from the fabric of the dress Hermione wore as she came down. He had the utmost faith in his tailor, but watching the lioness come down, he found his breath trapped in his lungs.

“You...look...ravishing,” he said in a velvet tone.

Peeling away from the mantle to walk towards her. Before she could reach the final step he offered her his hand. 

A bit of blush actually colored her cheeks at that. The response was unexpected but more than pleasing as she took his hand and took in his appearance. He was rather handsome as well but she doubted she could match the compliment in his voice. 

“Thank you. You look quite dashing,” she replied as she stepped down with her hand in his. Her heart was accelerating in her chest again.

At the compliment he nodded once. “I have one more thing,” he met her gaze as he pulled something silver from his breast pocket. He set it in her palm, a perfect thin snake coiled there before slithering forward up her arm to wrap around her scar. 

The enchanted bauble almost made her jump in surprise, not exactly accustomed to her jewelry moving, but she smiled as it covered that mark. That was thoughtful, he didn’t have to think that far ahead…

“I appreciate that,” she breathed as her gaze moved from the snake now coiled around her arm as a bracelet and met his gaze. 

“If McLaggen tries to grab your arm it’ll bite him,” he offered with a bit of a smirk. “I charmed it,” he added, not wanting her to think it was some cursed item from his family home.

Her hand lightly squeezed his as she glanced down at the band around her arm, her free hand tracing over those coils gently. It was cold to the touch like any other band. Looking back to the blond she gave a nod. “You are rather thorough with your dates, aren’t you?”

“Very,” he assured her with a bit of a shrug of his shoulders, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. “Ready?” he asked.

“Mhmm. I have other prefects scheduled to patrol when we normally would. We actually have a night off,” she said as she moved to walk with him, keeping her hand tucked into his arm.

That was something he hadn’t expected. “A night off?” That was interesting. 

A bit more of a smile curved her lips. “I figured we both deserve a break. And they’d expect us to be out for awhile for the party,” she explained with a slight shrug. 

A few years back he might have teased and made a lewd comment, but he held back. “I suppose we do,” he agreed, leading them out of their tower towards the dungeons. 

Her steps stayed even with him, walking easily enough along the floors. “We do. Hopefully the dinner party won’t take all evening,” she chuckled. 

“We can always leave,” he said simply. He was a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake. He didn’t stay anywhere long enough to get bored.

“Then we’ll really get rumors started,” she half joked but the idea of leaving early with him was actually kind of nice. 

He looked over at her. “You’re on my arm dressed like that,” he pointed out. “The rumours have likely already begun.”

She glanced down at herself and then back at him with a chuckle. “True. I almost look like I should be in Slytherin house.”

“We’ve already deemed you do share some traits,” he chuckled back. It wasn’t as though he’d sport Gryffindor colors any time soon.

“Some traits. But the hat nearly sorted me into Ravenclaw, not Slytherin,” she grinned as they moved down the steps into the dungeons. 

He wasn’t surprised. “The hat is something else…” Though he had been sorted in the right house, he still felt that relic hadn’t been quite accurate on some students.

Hermione chuckled, pausing outside of the room that Slughorn had set up for the dinner party. Luckily it wouldn’t be like the Christmas party from before. “Now I’m curious what else you have to say about the sorting hat. Maybe after the party?”

“Maybe after the party,” he agreed, willing the door open with magic and leading them in. They did have the night off.

The room was properly decorated for Halloween. Decorations making the office seem more elegant. There were a few other students around the table, but they were far from the last ones arriving. Though as Slughorn finished greeting Ginny Weasley, he glanced over at the other two. 

“Oh-ho! What have we here? Quite the charming pair. It seems I have to make some adjustments to our seating order,” he chuckled as he moved to do just that with a flick of his wand. 

“Professor,” Draco gave a curt bow of the head in greeting. 

The room had seemed to tense as they noted the brunette on his arm, or rather recognized her. Only a few days prior she’d been accused of hexing him, now it seemed the contrary given how she was dressed. From the side, Pansy’s glare might as well have been throwing daggers at the lioness. Only reminding Draco that they were both avoiding someone that night. 

“Evening, Professor Slughorn,” she said politely.

“Good to see you, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. I expected you both to have plus ones. Known war heroes as you are,” he chattered on as he glanced over the table, making a few more adjustments as he went. 

Draco tensed the slightest bit, but kept his cool, the only one that might have noticed the shift was Hermione, and only because their bodies touched. “It seemed appropriate given our day to day,” he explained and shifted the conversation before Slughorn could go on about the war. “Is that what I think it is,” he motioned to the hourglass on the table, as though he had some interest in it. Although he did appreciate a good piece of magic, it had been the first thing to catch his eye. Perhaps because of the emerald and silver snakes that held the glass globes that held the sand.

“Good eye!” Slughorn praised, noticing the item. It had been there for his last revival of the club, but the young Malfoy hadn’t accepted the invitation then, so it did seem to be new to him.

Hermione lightly squeezed Draco’s arm, allowing that shift of conversation right as she made eye contact with Ginny. The Weasley actually glanced at her arm in Draco’s and then back at Hermione with an almost smug expression. Oh great. At least Ginny wouldn’t start picking her apart for showing up with the Slytherin Prince. 

After a light discussion of the hourglass, Draco managed to get them away from the professor, though he wasn’t sure that was the greatest of moves. If only in fear of who might dare accost them next.

Once the discussion was over she led them over towards the table, though saw that Ginny would be across from her and a seat or two down...would be McLaggen. This was going to be an odd evening. 

What worried Draco even more was the name beside McLaggen. “Well this should be interesting,” he said in an undertone.

“I’ll help you if you help me,” she murmured to him quietly. 

Ginny already took the seat across from Hermione and couldn’t help but smile. “See you found a date, Hermione,” she stated with a bit of a grin.

“Evening to you too, Ginny.”

Draco pulled the chair for his date and looked to the red head. “She did,” he stated with a nod.

The fact that he was actually treating her like an actual date was something that made her heart race just a little bit. It was silly. They were helping each other, that was all. “Luna did point out that we were getting along,” she reminded. 

Ginny smirked slightly as she picked up a glass of water and took a sip, everyone slowly starting to take their seats. “That she did. I’ll be sure she knows,” she teased before she glanced at the blond. “Your replacement on the Slytherin team does _not_ have your skill.”

“Hopefully the new brooms I got the team will compensate for his...lack,” he smirked. His family still did their best to keep up appearances with the school. Even if he had quit the team some time ago.

“Doubtful. Equipment doesn’t make up for skill,” the youngest Weasley argued with a smirk.

Hermione let out a sigh with a shake of her head and a smile. “Should have known you’d start talking quidditch, Ginny,” she teased as she took a sip from her own glass. They were only missing one or two more students for the party. 

“Except when it does,” he pointed out. The firebolt class was beyond anything else on the market in terms of speed. “You’d be singing a much different tune were I still seeker,” he smirked. “Though we’ll have to agree to disagree as the topic seems to displease my date,” he couldn’t help the look towards McLaggen, annoying Pansy with the greatest hits of Cormac the Gryffindor Keeper.

Ginny couldn’t help but give a slight roll of her eyes but she grinned. “We can potentially discuss it if you spend more time with Hermione outside of class,” she offered with a shrug before she glanced at Cormac and then back again with a snort. She had no sympathy for the young woman who accepted his invitation.

“Thank you both. I don’t have much to contribute to the quidditch conversation. I enjoy watching...but I can’t say I want to listen to my house is better than yours,” she replied with a bit of a grin, actually relaxing as she kept her gaze away from McLaggen.

The last few students took their seats with Professor Slughorn taking his spot towards the head of the table as he looked among the students. “I’m quite glad to see all of you this All Hallows Eve! You’ve all been doing wonderfully this term, though I do admit that I had wished your plus one would have come, Miss Weasley,” he said with a slight smirk.

Before Ginny could answer he waved it off. “No matter, no matter! Perhaps for Christmas. Though I’m sure all of you are famished and looking forward to conversation with each other,” he drawled with a bit of a booming laugh. A gesture had food appearing on all of their plates. 

“I’m sure our Head Boy and Head Girl aren’t going to share their reasoning for joining us together today….but I can be hopeful,” Slughorn nearly chirped. 

“That you most definitely can be,” Draco responded curtly. He wasn’t about to explain it, and he wasn’t going to put his partner in the spotlight more than she would be.

As the conversation shifted, Pansy couldn’t help herself. “Seems someone lost a bet…” she drawled, which had McLaggen giving a chuckle in return.

As Hermione lifted her glass she glanced at Parkinson with a raised brow. “Speaking about yourself, Parkinson? Or perhaps your date,” she offered before she took a sip of her water, seemingly unbothered. 

Slughorn seemed to not notice as he hounded a few younger students that were on his left and right, seeing what they had to say about school and their connections. 

“Myself?” Pansy demanded. “Please,” she shrugged. “At least my date isn’t a complete disgrace,” she started, only to stop her arm candy with a finger. “Cormac we already discussed this, I’m a lady,” she booped his nose and deflected him.

“Can’t say that I’ve encountered anything disgraceful about Draco during our interactions this term,” she responded before she glanced at McLaggen with a raised brow before she looked back to Ginny. 

The ginger actually glanced at McLaggen and offered a bright smile. “So, Cormac, couldn’t get Hermione so you settled for the next brunette you could find? Or was Parkinson just so determined to come that she asked you to make her your plus one?”

Cormac looked at Ginny with a bit of a smirk. “I could tell you, but it’s so much more amusing to watch this play out,” he said rather confident in himself. “Can’t complain about my date, which where’s yours?” he asked the ginger in return.

Pansy gave a light laugh. “You have one date with Malfoy and you think what exactly?” she asked the brunette. “I’m not insecure about the distraction you are within the walls of this castle…” Her gaze caught Draco’s, an unspoken conversation between them few seemed to comprehend.

“Don’t mind Pansy,” he muttered to Hermione. He hated the position he was in, but for now, he didn’t want to think about it.

Hermione just raised a brow. “Other than enjoying a date I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” she replied coolly before she took a bite of her food and glanced at Draco with a nod of her head, though it did make her wonder. Later. If it was important she’d ask later. 

“Harry couldn’t get away from Auror training. He’s apparently doing rather well. I’ll likely see him at Christmas,” she replied to Cormac with a small smile and a shrug. “Work is never done.”

Pansy chuckled. “You realize Cormac is more than aware about what happens at the Ministry right? Especially that particular department...” Honestly, was she the only person that paid attention to people’s lineages and use.

“It’s alright Pansy, not everyone knows my uncle Tiberius is a big deal in the Auror department,” he said obviously bragging.

Draco took a sip of his drink to stop himself from making a comment.

Hermione took another bite of her food, attempting to ignore them and hold to her part of the bargain. Clean plate. If Slughorn kept his usual theme that would be difficult. 

Ginny just smiled with a bit of a lifted brow. “Well, that’s great for your uncle. Did he tell you much about the training process? Or the current auror shortage? Poor man must be going grey with the current situation,” she said, ignoring Pansy completely to talk to her fellow lion.

“He has, it’s been pretty crazy,” he agreed. “Wonder what the boys would say if they saw Granger now,” he glanced over, despite her sporting Slytherin colors, still considering it.

Draco gave the man a glare. “Says the one with a viper on his arm.”

“Draco,” Pansy purred. “I have a date, no need to be cute.”

Hermione glanced over at Pansy and then at Cormac and lifted a brow. “They’d probably be proud that I avoided another enthusiastic man that doesn’t understand when he’s being avoided,” she said cooly before taking another bite of her food.

At that, Draco took a bite of his food, taking a moment to collect himself. “She means you,” he drawled. 

Pansy bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sure they would,” she drawled, a few ideas forming beneath the surface. It would be worth holding her tongue over. 

Looking at Pansy, she almost lifted a brow but focused instead on her food while Cormac actually looked stricken. 

“And how would they feel about a serpent essentially laying claim to you with his colors?” He drawled with a slight glare. 

“Tread carefully,” Draco warned the Gryffindor Keeper.

Hermione made direct eye contact with McLaggen and lifted a brow. “Laying claim to me? Perhaps I wanted to try a color other than red,” she countered easily enough. 

“Please,” Pansy drawled. “I know those stitches,” she glanced towards Malfoy. “Your mother will be oh so disappointed of who you truly had it made for…” 

“I’m sure your mother would love to hear about your own choices…” he retorted. He wasn’t above meeting her petty for petty.

McLaggen glanced at Malfoy and nearly sneered as he looked at him but then looked back at Hermione. “There are a lot of colors other than red. It didn’t have to be serpent’s green.”

“What I wear is no one’s business but mine,” she hissed. 

“At least you seem to be getting the message, perhaps focus on your own date,” the Slytherin head boy drawled. 

“And yet you’re decked out in serpents,” the Gryffindor keeper continued, ignoring the Slytherin talking to him even as he had an arm draped back around the top of Parkinson’s chair. “And the bracelet…” he scoffed, glancing at her arm. 

Draco was trying not to rise. It was growing harder, especially when McLaggen was being so despicable while his date was being so...good. He noted the work she’d made of her plate. “Continue that trainwreck of a thought, and we’ll be settling things outside,” he warned calmly. 

“I’ll gladly be your second for that, Draco,” Hermione drawled as she looked at McLaggen with narrowed eyes. “What I wear is not your business. Who I come to dinner parties with is not your business, how I spend my time is not your business,”

“But he..”

Ginny glanced at McLaggen and raised a brow. “I’d stop while you’re ahead. You make a great shield, it’s what makes you a good Keeper, I’m sure their jinxes and hexes would just stick to you perfectly.”

“I’m quite capable of holding my own in a duel,” Cormac scowled. “I just don’t trust Malfoy to be a gentleman, which is why I’m declining the opportunity,” he threw the silver haired male a dirty look.

Draco merely scoffed and shrugged it off. Whatever he needed to sleep at night.

Hermione held her tongue, with effort, so that she didn’t keep gauding McLaggen. She took another bite of her food and then sipped at her drink. This whole dinner party was getting tedious. 

At least it seemed to have gone over well enough, the pairs keeping to themselves. Draco idly chatting with Ginny and a Ravenclaw on his other side. It was pleasant all things considered, not that he was bad company. Course after course passed, and as dessert began wrapping up, they seemed to have managed to avoid any other altercations. With plates disappearing back into the kitchens, the members of the Slug Club rose to mingle for the last hour or two allotted to them. Despite the grievances Draco had for Slughorn and all he was being put through that year, this was a good way to make connections. 

“I’m going to get another glass of punch, can I get you a refill?” he offered to his date as she discussed a bit more with Ginny.

“Yes, thank you, Draco,” she replied easily with a smile that came just as easily as the polite response. Though she had to ignore a look from Ginny that the smile caused as she looked back to her. “So, recruiters for quidditch. You said they’ll be coming to Hogwarts?”

While Draco took a step away from Granger, Pansy accosted him, giving her date time to corner his. McLaggen was smug as he butted in on their conversation. “I know the date,” he said looking between the girls. “I could be inclined to share,” he said with a smirk, looking over Hermione. She was hot, even in Emerald robes.

Ginny glanced at McLaggen and gave a roll of her eyes. “I’m aware of when as well. They let all of the captains know, McLaggen,” she replied with a sharpness to her voice as she looked at him. 

The head girl lifted a brow at him and almost groaned. “I’ll likely go to that game for Ginny, Cormac. Not for you,” she calmly explained yet again to the boisterous lion. 

“Too bad,” he looked her over. “I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to me,” he said simply. “You invited me to this dinner last time, and I’d guess you did the same to Malfoy. Perhaps Skeeter did have a point about you,” he shrugged.

That actually had Hermione narrow her eyes on McLaggen. “Excuse me? Care to repeat that?” Her voice was cold and her fingers itched to go for her wand. 

“Which part?” he asked, his gaze falling on the serpent that seemed to tighten on her arm. “The one where you seem to dangle yourself on some guys’ arm and somehow are the rightfully offended party? That snake isn’t hiding anything,” he looked back up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes widened just a bit at that. “Oh, so a lady isn’t allowed to change her mind about someone? Yet the man who won’t take no for an answer, no matter how many times I’ve politely said no, is the one that’s in the right? Forgive me, I should have known better from someone that had to repeat their seventh year twice now,” she snapped, eyes blazing. 

“You have the instincts of a galleon digger,” he snapped back. 

“The truth of why I asked you last year then, McLaggen? I knew it would get under Ron’s skin. It had nothing to do with your skill and it sure as hell had nothing to do with whatever it is your worth. I couldn’t care any less about what connections you have or what you do,” she hissed with more venom than she thought possible. 

Ginny blinked a few times then glanced over at McLaggen. “Keep insulting my friend’s honor, McLaggen, and I’ll look for another Keeper. Your skills aren’t worth the ego.”

Cormac looked at Ginny and scoffed before looking back at Hermione. “You don’t even see it do you? You don’t understand the semantics, and your friend isn’t nice enough to tell you, but this pageantry...he owns you just as much as he would have if your friend had failed. So glad I fought just to watch this display,” he gestured towards her.

Anger flashed in her brown hues as she glared at the Gryffindor Keeper. Rather than say a word, she silently cast the Langlock jinx as well as the dancing feet jinx so he’d make a fool of himself. Turning on her heel once the spell was cast, she left the office quickly before Slughorn could notice. And before anyone could tell it was her that had done it as her hands balled into fists at her side.


	28. Moonlight

Draco had been returning to where he had left his date, a drink in each hand. Rather than finding Hermione, he found a hexed Cormac. With a sigh, he muttered a spell of his own, immobilizing the lion. “Hold these, thanks,” he muttered, and moved to catch up to his date, though not without silently having the drinks spill on Cormac. It would all fade, by then they would hopefully be long gone.

It took a bit before he caught a glimpse of her, which had him picking up the pace through the hall.

“Hermione,” he called.

The brunette was about to hit the staircase before she paused and took in a slow breath as she glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“You o-“ he began and knew if she had been McLaggen wouldn’t have been jinxed and his date rushing off. “You want to take a walk?” He offered. “Get some air?” 

The beginning of that question almost made her snap at him, but as he changed it she took in another slow breath and nodded her head. “I think I need it,” she replied, waiting for him to catch up with her so they could walk together. 

With a few long strides he made his way towards her, falling into step. “If it makes you feel any better, McPeabrain is going to need a change of clothes when he comes to,” he said, offering her a tentative smile. 

Hermione couldn’t help the slight snicker at that as she walked with him. “Good...the least he deserves for his insinuations,” she grumbled, running a hand back through her hair and ruffling it, letting it down some.

“Lineage isn’t everything,” he shrugged, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. 

“Clearly.” A sigh left her lips and her fingers trailed over that bracelet on her arm. His words echoing in her head. It was strange. What he had said touched on her desire to belong, but that idea that she could, or would have been, owned was infuriating. 

Regardless, she stepped outside into the courtyard with Draco and tried to let the cool night air clear her head as her fingers continued fiddling with the bracelet. 

He tried not to watch as she touched the bracelet. Normally it would have been charmed against mudbloods, but that wasn’t really an issue anymore. Not truthfully.

“At least he should get the message now,” he said, slipping his hands in his pockets and looking up at the night sky. It was nice, if not a bit chilly. At the feel of the crisp autumn wind, he shrugged his cloak and settled it over her shoulders. An act he was almost programmed to do. 

“If he’s not blinded by his own stupidity. Or start thinking you Imperiused me,” she grumbled, blinking with a bit of surprise as that cloak was placed around her. A bit of blush colored her cheeks but she smiled. “...Thank you.”

“No trouble,” he responded gently. She’d be warm, his cloaks all had charms to keep the wearer warm. 

There was a scent that clung to the fabric, like the soaps he used and something that was probably just him. But she tried not to think about it as they walked. “Hopefully Parkinson didn’t get to you too much while McLaggen got to me,” she sighed. So much for their bargain for mutual protection.

At that mention, he shrugged. Pansy was Pansy, there was no denying that. “I’ll live,” he promised. At least she hadn’t cornered him in a dark corner again. It was easier to deal with her in public, she knew better than to make too big of a fuss.

“Well, that’s a relief. I was concerned you might drop dead at any moment,” she replied with a bit more teasing sass than she’d had in years past. 

“Don’t underestimate Parkinson and her desires,” he chuckled. He was half joking. 

That actually made her laugh slightly as she shook her head. “Oh, absolutely not. Guess I better keep an eye on you. Can’t have Slytherin’s prince just dropping dead,” she joked. This felt...easier.

“I’m more worried about what she’d do about you than me,” he admitted. “She can’t have a chance in hell if I’m dead…”

“I’ll be fine...I’ve faced worse than Parkinson,” she noted with a small smile, actually pulling his cloak around herself a bit more securely. 

They both had, not that he wanted to remember any of it. Instead he cleared his throat and looked up. Above head the moon was closer to full. A few days and they’d have the few students that had seen the bad side of Fenrir ducking into the forest to shift.

Slowly they walked closer to the lake, Draco pausing near a few rocks that had been something at some time or another.

As they walked closer, she glanced out across the lake to where Dumbledore’s tomb was and almost shuddered. It was odd, knowing he was buried so close...but it also was almost soothing. Almost. Looking out across the lake, she sighed. 

His gaze wandered across the lake where hers seemed to. At the white monument in the distance, he reached for her arm and pulled her towards him. “It’s a nice night,” he offered as a means to distract her from the grave that loomed.

As she was pulled in she almost stumbled into him and blinked. Looking up at the sky, she actually looped her arm with his again. “It is. Very nice.”

Drawing her closer to a tree he leaned against it and kept her close. “Very,” he agreed, his silver gaze falling on her lips for just a moment.

Staying close to him was actually kind of nice. He was warm, the cloak was warm, surprisingly so, and it was easy to just lean into him some. “So...what kind of favor am I going to owe you?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” he responded, looking over her.

“Well, let me know when you do. I don’t want to stay in debt to anyone too long,” she half joked as she glanced up at him. 

Their eyes met, and he held it a moment. He rather liked the idea of having her in his debt. Which meant he probably shouldn’t. “You don’t owe me anything,” he murmured.

That actually had her eyes widen slightly. “I said I’d owe you a favor. I’m a witch of my word, Draco.”

With his free hand he reached and brushed her cheek. “I know,” he swallowed down. 

The light touch had her cheeks turn a light pink as she looked up at him, that swallow getting her attention. Was he nervous? About what?

That look in her eyes, the one she got when she was trying to solve a problem. He needed to get rid of it, and the only way he knew to. Draco leaned in and claimed her lips.

The kiss surprised her, making her pause before she kissed him back. His lips were soft and she felt safe, oddly enough. He’d come after her when she was upset...Draco Malfoy was not the boy she remembered. 

This wasn’t his usual, he knew that much. Last year he wouldn’t have been caught dead in any of the situations that had unfolded from the day. Still, he couldn’t stop kissing her, or cupping her cheek. Just like he couldn’t stop the hand on her hip from bringing her in closer.

This was different than the other times they’d kissed. It was gentle, not from some sort of accidental misunderstanding, and the way he touched her had her relaxing into him. After everything they’d both been through, she didn’t want to pull away with how good kissing him felt. She wrapped an arm around him, pressing a bit closer as she let that kiss build. 

From her side, his hand smoothed down to the small of her back to tuck her in more closely. As he deepened the kiss, his other hand falling to rest on her neck. Gently his thumb strummed her throat, slowly brushing up and down it.

A shiver rolled through her at that light touch of his thumb across her neck, making her press in a bit closer. Breaking the kiss, she took in a deeper breath as that blush filled her cheeks. Unlike before though...she didn’t pull away or try to run. 

Though he knew he probably shouldn’t have kissed her, it didn’t stop his heart from hammering. He could feel himself reacting to her, discomfort growing in his trousers. Still, he only looked back to her, as though debating claiming another heated exchange.

“I suppose we could be even,” she breathed as her gaze met his. They really did keep finding themselves here. She’d worry about it later. Rather than let him ponder, she leaned in and pressed her lips back to his again, her fingers trailing from one shoulder and up into his hair at the back of his head. 

Every strand of hair on his head felt electrified as she ran her fingers through them. Goosebumps covering his skin. That word in his mind kept replaying. _Even_. They would never be even. He knew that. Not after everything. 

As far as them helping each other at the dinner, she considered them to be even. It was mutually assured assistance and what they were doing now she was pretty sure was mutually assured destruction. But they did just keep kissing, didn’t they?

Meeting those lips, it made his skin burn. He felt hot, which only made the cool wind more bitter in its bits against his cheeks and neck. As much as she warmed him, the night was there as a stark reminder of what awaited him.

Breaking that kiss again she took in a deep breath, blushing a bit more and brushed her hair out of her face. Despite the bite of the autumn chill, she felt warm. Warm from more than just the cloak and she lightly bit her bottom lip. 

“Seems you were right,” she said quietly. 

“I usually am,” he breathed. “But what about this time?”

His forehead rested against hers, nose brushing the tip of hers. He wanted to kiss her again, as much as he wanted to run off.

“We keep kissing anyway,” she admitted with a small smile, not pulling away. Not yet. Once they pulled away again they wouldn’t end up like this again for a while. She could feel it. 

He looked at her lips, enjoying the smile on them. “We do,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t…” he recalled her own words on the matter. There was a quality to them however that demonstrated a desire to ignore his base impulses to run.

“We shouldn’t...and yet we still do,” she sighed, letting her fingers play through his hair. Normally she’d have run by now. Her heart was running enough for both of them. 

His fingers combed through the few locks that fell from her hairstyle. They traced along her jawline, hooking under her chin. “And the baths...and the sleep…” his throat was dry. Just the thought of having her in bed again had his pants feel tight.

The blush heated further but she didn’t shy away from his gaze, even as she felt anxious and felt like she had pixies in her stomach. “...The baths have only happened twice,” she breathed. 

“We could go for a third,” he offered with a bit of a smirk.

“You’re incorrigible,” she laughed lightly, slowly trailing her fingers out of his hair and along his shoulders. 

He smoothed over her shoulders, kissing along her jaw. “That’s not a no…”

A shiver rolled through her as she closed her eyes. Bad idea. It was a terrible idea. He might actually enjoy her company but they couldn’t… “It’s not a yes either.”

Those words were like a cold shower, making him pause. Slowly, he pulled back. Not trusting himself to speak, simply nodded. With careful motions he straightened his robes to keep his hands busy. 

“It’s getting late, we should head back inside…”

As he pulled back part of her wanted to pull those words back. A sigh left her lips as she stepped back and let her hair down as she looked at him. “Yeah...don’t want you to freeze since you gave me your cloak,” she agreed. 

It seemed they both agreed. Cursing himself, he turned to walk towards the castle, carefully placing thought after thought in line. Organizing his mind with every step so he could keep himself in control. 

She followed after him, staying a step or two behind as she mentally kicked herself. Rather than bantering with him, she had let her own caution and insecurity keep her from continuing...whatever this was for a little while.

Guilt ebbed through his attempts, her silence somehow making it harder on him. He’d crossed a line. Pushed beyond her comfort. 

The silence gnawed at her. This friendship was complicated. Chewing at her bottom lip, she quickened her steps to walk alongside him. “Draco...thank you. For tonight,” she started, trying to make more words come but what did she even say? 

As he walked, he turned to look at her. He’d failed her, and she was thanking him? “It’s fine,” he shrugged, hands in his pockets. “I mean I tried to keep Cormac away and that sort of backfired,” he sighed, reaching to run a hand through his hair. _And then you propositioned her you git._

As they walked along she still smiled a little bit, even as the blush stayed in her cheeks. “You succeeded for awhile. This evening, minus the last few minutes at the dinner, was rather enjoyable.” Other than her shooting him down so bluntly, but what was she going to do? She had no clue what she was doing other than snogging. 

His mind replayed her words. She wasn’t denying some pleasure from their kissing. “I’m pleased to hear it,” he nodded. Perhaps he had gotten some things right.

Climbing the stairs she was almost reluctant to call it a night, but she needed to figure things out. If this kept happening it had to mean something. Though he could be physically attracted to her and not want anything more than that. Ginny was going to hammer her with questions soon. 

At the portrait he stopped, as if debating whether to open the door or linger there a moment.

The pause had her stop as well and she glanced up at him a moment before she removed his cloak from around her, passing it back to him and trying not to fidget. It was starting to feel almost like an actual date. 

He hadn’t expected his cloak back, but he reached for it and folded it over his arm. “I guess this is it…” Was this the natural conclusion? The thought alone gave him a pang.

Hermione almost swayed back and forth on her heels before she actually leaned in and brushed her lips to the corner of his mouth. “Have a good night, Draco. If you need anything...you can knock.”

At that she murmured the password and strode through their common room to the stairs that led up to her room. Her heels clicked the whole way and her heart was still beating like a drum. 

His gaze followed her every step, his fingers brushing where the feel of her lips still lingered. It took a few seconds longer before he stepped in, trying not to read into her words. Every click of her heels reverberating down his spine and between his thighs. “Goodnight,” he said, doubting she had heard it.


	29. Illness

A beam of sunlight escaped the heavy curtains of the window and bed. Draco swore it was out to get him. That it just demanded his pain. Breathing was hard, so hard he felt it probably explained the scruff feeling in his throat. It made him happy he’d cursed his walls to be soundproof on his end, snoring wasn’t something to be proud of. Heavily, his arm draped over his forehead, a groan falling off his dry lips. Of course he was getting sick. He deserved it didn’t he?

His hand was clumsy as it blindly reached for his wand, wanting to curse those blinds closed. A whiny curse leaving him as the length of wood fell to the ground. He felt weak, his limbs shaken. Even if he’d wanted to, there was no way he could manage to call his wand back to him.

It was almost the afternoon and she had gotten something to eat down in the Great Hall. Luckily, Ginny had actually been at quidditch practice with McLaggen so she didn’t have to worry about that for a little while longer at least. But no one had seen Draco yet today. It was enough that there were whispers happening, continuing the rumors that she had hexed him. All of those rumors were foolish. 

A sigh left her lips as she moved into their common room and actually moved up the stairs to Draco’s side of the suite. Knocking on the door gently she chewed at her bottom lip. “Draco? Are you alright?”

“I’m dying...go away…” he groaned at the door, shifting positions for the umpteenth time in an attempt for any sort of comfort.

“Well, if you’re dying I’m coming in,” she replied with a roll of her eyes as she opened the door and closed it behind her. “Now, why are you dying?” 

Draco merely groaned, turning his back to hide the flush that blotched his flawless skin, the irritation on his nose, and the chills that had his hair looking more like a murtlap than a perfect Malfoy specimen. The effort had him coughing up a storm, preventing him from trying to push her away.

Oh, that was why he was dying. “Oh dear,” she sighed as she stepped closer and actually placed the back of her hand against his forehead. “You’re burning up...I have a few remedies that should be able to help. Steam from the bath might clear a little of that up though,” she recommended, attempting to get him to listen without her having to push. 

Remedies. Bath. They all involved effort. He looked at her unsure if he was even hearing right anymore. “A bath might be nice,” he mumbled.

“A bath will do you some good. And then right back to bed. I’ll use the journals to make sure other prefects can cover this evening again,” she seemed to already be planning things out. 

“Are you going to draw me a bath?” he asked, almost skeptical.

“Since you dropped your wand, I easily can. I was thinking of a mint or eucalyptus oil addition...any complaints with that?” She lifted a brow as she drew her wand. 

He thought it over. “Add lavender.” It would help smooth it out. “More eucalyptus, less mint,” he added.

Hermione gave a nod of her head as she strode over to the door to the bathroom in his room, opening it, and flicking her wand towards the bath. Lavender and eucalyptus were both things that should help. “There. I have a few remedies in my room and I’ll see if I can convince the house elves to bring some tea.”

Draco gave a small nod. Only his mother took care of him like this, but he wasn’t complaining. As she left, he stepped out of his bed and dragged himself to the washroom, not even bothering with his wand right then.

She moved through the bathroom, actually going into her own room and rummaging around for the medicines she had from home. There were some muggle remedies that might help a bit more in her opinion and she also had potions. The door to her room from the bathroom remained cracked open and she hung back up her own cloak. 

He could barely focus. Slowly, he undressed and stepped out of his clothes. Though the air was thick with the oils and the warmth of the water, he felt a chill. One he tried to rectify by entering the tub.

“If you need anything before you get out...I’ll try to help,” she called into the bathroom as she gathered the bottles. Rather than leave their suites, she actually used a sending spell to send a small note down to the kitchens that requested the tea and some soup for Draco. 

Submerging, he didn’t stay long. Not this time. There was no point in trying to drown himself, his lungs were doing this enough for him. Coming back up he gasped a bit. Resting against the ledge. He closed his eyes.

Hermione avoided cutting through the bathroom and actually went the long way around to go and set things up in his room. Medicine, a tea tray with tea and soup that was covered to keep it warm, a few books in case he needed looking after. It was the least she could do after he had likely ended up sick because he had been too busy taking care of her. 

It was a while before Draco exited the bath, patting himself dry and throwing on a silk robe. With a few steps he was back in his room, making his way to his bed. He settled under the sheets and sat up against the headboard.

Looking over at him she seemed to study him before she picked up his wand from the floor and put it on the bedside table as she poured him a cup of tea. “You need to try and manage at least a cup of tea….preferably soup as well, and then you should sleep.”

“Bossy,” he muttered, though he accepted the tea nonetheless. 

“Are you surprised?” She asked as she sat on the edge of his bed and pushed her hair back out of her face. 

He sipped his tea, there was no point in really taking his time with it, he couldn’t smell or taste for that matter. “Not particularly. You said you had things?”

She nodded her head, pausing for just a moment. “What is bothering you so I can pick something that will help with those things?”

“My head hurts, the light hurts my eyes, I can’t breathe…” he started listing off, interrupting himself with a cough.

He sounded pitiful and with that she gave a nod of her head before she poured out some of the Nyquil that she had. “This should help with the headaches, the congestion, the coughing, and should knock you right back out so you can sleep.”

Sleep sounded nice. He eyed the odd bottle she had while settling down his tea. He gave it a sniff and looked it over before downing it. Unlike most potions it wasn’t unpleasant. Minty. It stung his throat like a firewhiskey and left an odd aftertaste. “What kind of potion is that?”

“Muggle remedy. I’ve been taking it for years,” she murmured as she took back the small cup and put it down next to the bottle. “It’ll help with everything you said. And maybe you’ll actually sleep more soundly.” She knew that he didn’t sleep that deeply all that often. He was running himself into the ground. 

At that he nearly choked on his own saliva, or perhaps it was mucus. “So that’s why it’s doing nothing,” he grumbled. Potions were pretty instantaneous, or at least they started working right away. This? What was he supposed to do with this?

Rolling her eyes at him she leveled a look at him that had often withered both Harry and Ron. “Give it fifteen minutes. Then it should last for 8 hours, rather than the six of some of our potions,” she chided with a shake of her head. 

He wasn’t sure about how he felt about any of it, but the deed was done and even he wasn’t about to mix any type of potion with muggle equivalent. Instead he settled further into bed, bringing up the blankets.

There was a feeling of some sort of guilt and protectiveness that was building in the Gryffindor, feelings that she tried to push away. “Need anything else?” 

Did he need anything else? Possibly, though he could barely think of anything right then. Though holding to his doubts it wasn’t much longer that he was snoring into his pillow in perhaps the most unMalfoy like manner.

Hermione actually had to try not to laugh at that and she shook her head. She’d blame his congestion for the snoring. Grabbing her books, she went back through their shared bathroom and to her room, leaving both doors open as she worked on her homework in case he needed anything. 

It was strange. Maybe she should have taken him to Madam Pomfrey, but she wanted to repay him somehow for helping her with McLaggen.

Between the sickness and the medications, Draco was incapable of keeping his mind in check. Deep sleep always came at a price, and this was deeper than anything he had known. Beneath the sheets, he was in a sweat, tangling in the blankets as his dreams were overrun with the not too distant past.

The initiation at Borgins and Burkes... Nagini swallowing the Muggle Studies professor on his dining room table…

At first, the sounds were soft, like a whimper. Two years with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord in his house had served for a baseline of keeping in line, even in sleep. It was returning to that night in the manor’s drawing room that burst the flood gates.

“NO!” 

The single word resonated in his head, through the room. Most of his covers were on the floor, barely covering his sweat covered flesh. In his struggle he’d fought the robe off. With his wand where it wasn’t normally, his hand reached through his sleep only to find nothing. In dream, as he had when he’d lived it, he felt completely useless.

That shout made Hermione jump, dropping everything as she moved back into his room without a hesitation. Much as he had come to her when she had nightmares, she was answering his own nightmares as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Draco, it’s not happening anymore, it’s a dream,” she tried to soothe, reaching out to take his hand gently, squeezing it and rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand. 

His eyes were open, but he wasn’t really looking at her. He looked paler than usual, his frame shaking lightly. It was a few more moments before he noticed her hand on his, that concern on her features.

“I..” he began unsure how to even begin to respond. Normally she was the one like this, not him. Or rather, he didn’t allow himself to.

As he noticed her, she moved a bit more onto his bed and lightly squeezed his hand. “It’s okay,” she murmured softly, her voice a lot more gentle than it normally was. He had helped her through so many nightmares. How could she not help him now?

It didn’t feel okay. He kept her hand in his. Beneath his breast, his heart was still hammering away. “It’s not,” he murmured. She had nightmares, and he might as well have been the source of them. He’d fed the machine that had caused them. 

“Whatever you’re dreaming about, it can’t hurt you anymore,” she attempted to soothe, not letting go of his hand. Physical proximity helped her feel grounded. She hoped that it would help him too. 

Draco couldn’t look away from their hands. To meet her gaze would be to show her how weak he felt in that moment. “Tell that to my subconscious,” he grumbled, his free hand smoothing down his face before pushing his locks back. A streak of pink highlighted his cheeks. “Didn’t mean to bother you,” he murmured.

Hermione shook her head. “You didn’t bother me, Draco. And I’m attempting to tell your subconscious that,” she tried to joke slightly before she paused and nudged him slightly. “Move over. We can talk till you feel a bit better.”

A few times his mouth opened to speak, but nothing escaped. Instead, he moved over, keeping his blankets in place. With a sigh, he nodded. “Okay,” he agreed, his mouth felt dry. “Could I get some water,” he asked, biting his lower lip.

Before she moved more completely on the bed, she grabbed a glass of water, silently casting the spell for water, and passed him the glass. “Throat getting dry now?”

The blond nodded as he took the glass and polished it off. Despite everything he felt a little better.

She moved onto the bed a bit more, settling next to him and letting her thumb feather back and forth across the back of his hand. 

A motion that had his heart race as he remained motionless. When he cared for her it was easy, but this, the only person he’d allowed so close was his mother, and even then. Handing her back the cup he debated what to say.

As she took the glass, she put it back on the bedside table and then rested the back of her hand against his head again gently. “Your fever is a little bit lower. So that’s good. You’re going to need more sleep though...What usually helps with the nightmares?” 

“Nothing,” he admitted. “I don’t...I can’t…” his head shook as he spoke.

That made her feel even more sympathetic. She lightly squeezed his hand and nodded her head. “...I know what that’s like. It’s okay though. The war’s over. You’re fine.” 

She was right, but he wasn’t. Nothing was fine. “It’s over for you,” he murmured. “It’ll never be over for me.” He wasn’t normally one to talk, but the meds were making it a little easier for his tongue to unfold.

That made her raise a brow slightly. “You should explain that…” she prompted gently, attempting to get him to open up a bit more.

He couldn’t look at her then. “There’s nothing for me after this year,” he murmured.

“I’m sure there is, Draco. You’re brilliant.”

“I know I’m capable,” he said honestly. “I can’t help how others see me,” he reminded with a shrug.

Well, that was something she couldn’t really argue was it? “You helped at the end, Draco. You did what you had to in order to survive...If I can see that, surely others can.”

He laughed under his breath and shook his shoulders. How could she even look at him after everything? Slowly, he settled back into the pillows.

That laugh had her cut a look over at him. “Oh, I’m funny now?”

“I guess,” he looked over at her.

A sigh left her lips as she shook her head. “You’re a decent person, Draco. You did what you needed to in order to survive. When it mattered, you helped.”

Decent wasn’t good. “Can we just…” he sighed. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“Yeah...I should probably let you rest anyway…”

“Yeah.”

That agreement almost stung but she nodded her head with a small smile as she started to move to get off the bed. “Alright. If you do end up needing anything…”

As she began to move he bit the inside of his cheek. “Actually,” he said gently. “Would you…”

“Would I...what?”

“Stay.”

“You want me to…” she started then bit the inside of her mouth gently. Of course he did. He wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t meant it. “...let me go change so I won’t have to leave while you’re asleep then. I’ll be right back. Okay?”

He nodded.

Leaving the bed, she went back to her room and quickly changed into a pair of shorts as well as a t-shirt so that she could be comfortable. Grabbing two school books, she returned back to his room and added those to the pile at his bedside. 

Chewing at her bottom lip, she climbed back into bed with him and scooted closer to him under the covers. There was no reason both of them should get sick. 

“Better?”

Draco had at least put pants on while she’d been gone. He gave her space on the bed, and inched closer once she was settled. “Better,” he said gently. 

Hermione offered a small smile and moved a bit closer. He had held her when she had nightmares. This would be fine. A lot more than it wouldn’t be after all. “Good.”

Where he normally held her, right then, the Slytherin merely rested his head against her. Though he was tall, taller than her, he seemed a bit smaller in that moment, curled against her.

There was something odd about how small he seemed pressed close to her like that, almost tucked in against her side. Her arm wrapped around him as she settled into bed beside him and brushed his hair from his face to stroke through his silver locks.

A shiver raked his back he couldn’t suppress at the touch. It was something his mother did that he didn’t allow people to do. Yet he didn’t stop her. Not in that moment. His lips mouthed a good night and his consciousness drifted. 

“Good night, Draco,” she whispered as he started to fall asleep, keeping an eye on him for a bit longer before she’d let herself relax.


	30. Occlumensy and Medicine

While Draco had fallen asleep rather quickly, Hermione had done a bit more of their homework before she let herself settle on the pillows next to him and actually fall asleep. Rather than being held, she was the one doing the holding this time. Her fingers occasionally absently traced down his back or over his hair in comforting touches. 

Even as the morning light of the next day started to come through the windows, she stayed close to him in a rather peaceful sleep. A small smile curved Hermione Granger’s lips, showing a sense of peace she rarely felt these days.

With the sun against his eyelids he fluttered them as if it could fight those pesky rays away. Finally resigning himself to waking up, he stilled at the sight before him. She was there, her nose nearly brushing his, a smile on those lips he’d kissed more times than he’d thought possible since the beginning of the year. Slowly he shifted, testing to see how deeply she was asleep.

A soft sigh that was almost a protest left her lips as her arm tightened around him slightly. Still sleeping rather deeply for the moment, it seemed like she was almost trying to ground him if he was having a nightmare. 

As much as he wanted to pull away, he didn’t want to forget this moment. She was pulling him in, holding him, and he wanted to enjoy it just a while longer. Instead, he inched forward and allowed himself to remain there. He watched her a bit, and eventually closed his eyes to just remain in that feeling.

Once he settled, she nuzzled a bit closer to him with a soft sigh as she curled up. Her fingers started to stroke down his back again. Slowly waking up, she didn’t want to pull away. Not when this was so much more comfortable. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, holding back a yawn. 

“I slept,” he responded quietly. He wasn’t sure if it was the medicine or her he had to thank for that. His length hard beside his thigh however was equal parts her touches and presence. “Well,” he finished. “Really well.”

A small smile curved her lips at that and she sighed softly. “Good. I’ll check for a fever in a moment,” she murmured quietly, still sounding rather content for a moment. The reality of the situation hadn’t caught up with her. 

Draco was mostly afraid to move. “I could get used to you as my healer,” he managed, a bit of hunger in his gaze as he eyed her. She was in his bed. Holding him. While in his bed. Part of him wanted to roll her over, kiss her, claim her. She was in his bed, looking at him like that, touching him in such a gentle manner. The sort of intimacy he had dreamed of but never truly got.

Opening her eyes to look at him, the look he had made her blush again. Well, then. Never did she think that Draco Malfoy would look at her like that. She tried to focus. One hand pressed back to his forehead and she thought for a moment. “Lower fever, but still there. I’ll take that as a compliment,” she added, attempting to joke with it some. 

Despite himself he leaned into her touch. “Another night and I’ll hopefully be better…” oh what he’d give for another night with her like this. The mere idea had his length shift beneath his pants. It took everything from him not to kiss her.

“It would seem that way. Might be able to speed it up if you sleep more today too,” she mused before she slowly moved to sit up a bit more. “Feeling hungry or thirsty at all?”

“A little hungry,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure how much he could actually eat, but he wasn’t about to turn down a day of bedrest. “Mind getting me something?” he asked gently. “I think a shower might help,” he added. Of course before he could do that he needed her away.

A bit of a smile curved her lips. “I can do that. I might get cleaned up first though. Then you can use another shower or bath and I’ll be back shortly,” she promised as she slowly started to untangle herself from him. 

He nodded, shifting as she moved to avoid letting her feel what she did to him. “See you soon,” he breathed, slicking his lips as he watched her.

Getting out of bed she stretched, barely holding back a yawn as her shirt moved up her body some. A small sliver of skin was shown before she lowered her arms and smiled. “See you soon,” she agreed as she walked back into their joined bathroom and closed the door behind her. She’d get cleaned up and then go down to the kitchens. 

The second that door closed his hand was under the sheets. _Bloody hell,_ he breathed, closing his eyes to focus on her scent that lingered on his bed. 

Hermione simply had a quick bath, cleaning up and she was almost reluctant to wash the smell of him from her skin. He smelled faintly of the musk of cologne from Halloween and something that was almost like sandalwood. Reluctantly she got cleaned up and went back to her room to put on a new set of clothes. 

She kept it cozy though, a pair of lounging pants and another t-shirt as she brushed out her hair before leaving her room to go down to the kitchens. Getting out and actually moving around would be good for her, and give him time to actually clean up. 

Hearing her leave had him moving to the shower, cursing the doors shut to clean up and handle himself to avoid any embarrassments once she was back in his bed. It had him under the water longer than usual, but when he emerged, he pulled on a fresh pair of pants and pajama bottoms. With how his temperature seemed to fluctuate he skipped the shirt. He was feeling better sure, but his head still hurt, and she had said he should rest. Looking at the bottle of minty liquid he opened it with a little magic since the cap seemed to just weirdly turn in place, and downed nearly half the bottle. It seemed about right, though still as unpleasant as it had tasted the night before.

Hermione came back with a little tray of sandwiches, the tea in his room replaced itself with another pot with a snap of elf magic, and as she walked into his room she set down the small tray of finger sandwiches. The soup was even replaced with elf magic. “More soup, sandwiches, tea, and water of course,” she started before she stopped. 

The fact that the bottle was now half empty made her take in a slow breath. “Draco, please tell me you didn’t drink half of that medicine.”

“Why?” He asked as he sat up. He took a bite out of a sandwich she had brought and washed it down with some tea. “It’s fine,” he said though that loss of pressure had him glad to be sat. “I’m fiiiiiine,” he said feeling his motor functions slowly fail him. Like he was caught in some form of gelatin which was hilarious. Gelatin. Such a silly word.

“Because the little cup I gave you of it last night was the dosage of it,” she explained as she picked up the bottle and scanned it. It was just going to make it harder for him to be awake, move without some control of motor functions. “Bloody hell,” she grumbled to herself.

He blinked and watched her, the words feeling like they too were moving through gelatin. He’d drank before, and knew what being drunk was like, but this? This was different. His eyelids felt heavy. “Ha you said bloody h-” he never made it to the end of the sentence, his head nearly hitting the headboard as he fell back into the pillows. His body in an awkward position, the tea cup crashing to the ground.

A swift flick of her wand repaired the tea cup and levitated it back to the bedside table. This was going to be a time, now she’d have to keep an eye on him to make sure that he was properly breathing, wasn’t she?

Hermione let out a sigh and moved the medicine further away before she took a seat on the bed and moved closer. First she lightly checked his pulse, and other than it being a little more erratic it was fine. More like he was already in whatever dreams claimed him when he slept. She carefully helped shift him into a more natural position, pulled the blanket over him, and watched for just a moment. 

“You are one of the strangest boys…” she breathed before leaning in and pressing a light kiss to his forehead. Hopefully the medicine would just help him recover a bit more quickly. 

His body might as well have been a prison. While Hermione moved him, he was trapped in his mind, the compartments springing open. Everything he had so carefully hidden, so meticulously put away beginning to bubble to the surface. As her lips collided with his forehead they mirrored his mother’s. The visions that played beneath his eyes sucking her in like a pensieve did. She would be transported to his room, Draco curled in a corner, her screams in the background as he clawed at his scalp as she did. The image transitioned to Bella and the Dark Lord discussing failure in the very room Hermione had been tortured in, only rather than Granger sprawled on the floor, it had been him on the receiving end. A reminder of the cost of failure. One he had been taught more times than he cared to admit.

Her stomach rolled. The idea that he went through such mental and physical anguish at the hands of his own family was enough to make her blood boil. And it felt like she couldn’t feel her own limbs in that moment, like she was being whisked through his mind and wasn’t able to really pull back from it. 

His mind flitted from memory to memory. How his occlumency had not prevented the Dark Lord from seeing his weaknesses. The invasion of his mind, his privacy. The memory triggering ones he himself had forgotten. Pansy licking his Dark Mark causing him to tip the boat she stood in in the boathouse while he stormed off. Taking her from behind and demanding she shut up as he pushed her head down in the pillows. He knew where it was going, and he couldn’t stop it. To her on her knees in front of him, his head against the wall. No markings on his arm, no wars yet so to speak. By the looks of it, the attire suggested after the Yule Ball. “‘Mione,” he whispered. Pansy snapped looking at him with sheer anger as she demanded him to repeat what he’d just said. “My knee, you’re clawing it,” he hissed. “If you’re not up for it you can just leave…”

Her cheeks blazed bright red at that. All of those images of his own physical escapades, and the use of her own name. That...couldn’t be right. If he actually liked her, he would have said something wouldn’t he? But then, he had tried to get them to continue their kissing.

The more Draco tried to regain control the worst it became. Memory after memory he had done his best to suppress coming to light. His mother trying to keep his father from crossing lines when it came to him. Discussions about how he’d marry whoever they saw fit. Slices of how little he controlled in his life. When it stopped he was too drained to really move. For the first time in his life, his mind went blank. Completely silent. His body and mind in harmony as they just stilled for a spell.

When released from the maelstrom that was his mind she almost shook as she sat back on the bed. Her heart was hammering in her chest and the feelings from before were there. That crush that she’d had on him when they were younger, with how brilliant and handsome he had always been. 

Taking in a slow breath, she settled on the bed next to him, picked up a sandwich, and got lost in one of the school books they had. It wouldn’t do to dwell on what she had seen and maybe, if she were lucky, he wouldn’t know she had seen a thing so she had time to figure it all out. 

It felt like a decade had passed when Draco finally came to. The sun no longer sat in the sky, having ceded to the moon. His head was spinning, his mouth parched. 

“Wh-What happened?” He asked, feeling like he’d ingested cotton balls. He sat up and reached for water, chugging an entire glass.

As he reached over her for the glass she almost jumped but held back the sound as she pushed her hair back out of her face. “You took too much of the medicine and passed out. You’re going to need a lot more water.”

“I see,” he replied. He slowly remembered going down memory lane, but there had been something different about it. “And you just watched over me?” He asked but the way his cheeks flushed and drained of color simultaneously said more than he could express in that moment. She’d been there. In his memories.

“I..” she flushed again as she saw him flush and also pale. Clearing her throat, she poured herself a cup of tea and took a slow sip of it. “I attempted to...and for the most part I did,” she confirmed, trying not to think about certain memories in particular. 

Years of composure, of carefully sorting through memories. Hiding them. All undone in a matter of hours. A few times his lips moved to speak, but he couldn't quite manage to form words. "I..." he wanted to say he could explain, but he couldn't. Not really. Instead he swallowed the rest of that sentence down and sighed, resting his head against the headboard and closing his eyes. 

The way that Hermione saw it, she had a few options. She could either be quiet and say nothing about what she saw, she could offer him her condolences about what he had to deal with at the hands of that monster, or she could question...those _other_ memories.

“We could...I could...not talk about any of it, if you’d like,” she offered as she got him a bit more water in that glass. Just in case he needed it. 

He wanted to feel relief, but she was also her. “You really think you can do that Granger?” He asked. Using her last name to keep that distance for now. She had seen too much. So much. Even the parts with Pansy, which he knew she was smart enough to piece together.

“I can try if you want me to. I know I wouldn’t talk to anyone other than you about it,” she sighed as she leaned back against the headboard, rubbing at her temples gently. “But if you’d rather talk about it, I do have a question.”

Of course she had a question. “Only one?”

“I can limit it to one,” she blushed, not looking over at him. 

He groaned. “Ask before I change my mind.”

“So...you didn’t always mean the names you called me? That hatred, the cold dismissal...how much of it was real?”

Draco swallowed down. “That’s two questions,” he reminded. “I…” he wasn’t sure how to word it. Before he could really overthink it he looked at her. “How long have you had a crush on me?” He asked in return.

That question back made her flush rather deeply and she set down her tea cup and chewed at her bottom lip. “...First year. I thought it stopped in second year after you,” she paused then shook her head. “Anyway, I was worried about you in sixth year. So clearly it hadn’t gone away completely.”

He blinked a few times. “My jaw remembers,” he admitted, his hand brushing the exact spot she had hit. “I… second year,” he corrected himself before he made an idiot of himself. “I was too busy being right during first year to actually notice anyone.” He’d been eleven then. Candy and being top of his class had been his priority.

A small smile curved her lips. “I realize. It wasn’t an overwhelming crush or anything. Just...you were smart and cute. A little prickly,” she half teased but tried not to fidget. “Going to answer my questions then?”

“I just admitted I liked you and you think I haven’t answered your question?” 

That took a moment and she blushed a bit more as she glanced over at him a moment. “Before or after you called me names?” Her heart was beating really fast and while part of her wanted to reach out to him, the other part didn’t. 

“I don’t remember,” he said honestly. “I want to say before, but it might be despite,” he shrugged. “Does it really matter?” He asked. Did the stupid shit he said as a child really have an impact. 

A few moments of silence ticked by before she shook her head. “No...not really,” she finally admitted. All of the other things seemed far too painful to even attempt to talk about. She had known his family had fallen out of favor. But that? Better not to think of it. 

“That explains a bit…”

“You’re justifying…” he tilted his head. “Me?”

“Justifying why we seem to keep kissing despite what others would think about it. Why both of us tried to put the blame on the other at first…” she explained with a slight shrug before letting her brown gaze meet his gray one. 

Draco had trouble comprehending how she could just be so chilled about it all. “You need to justify that?” he asked, rather incredulous.

“Needed to figure it out because it was strange to me that it seemed you hated me for years but then wanted to keep kissing me.”

He blinked. “Obviously hate sex isn’t something you’ve had,” he muttered.

That made her blush even further and she cleared her throat. “No...no it isn’t,” she murmured, gaze dropping away. 

Draco noted the blush in her cheeks. “I don’t hate you, for the record,” he explained.

“I’ve gathered that part,” she muttered, clearly still a little flustered at that. Her experiences, or lack thereof, was not something she really wanted to discuss. 

He nodded. “Good.” he said.

“I don’t hate you either.” She felt the need to state it. 

“Still want to kiss me?” 

That question made the blush warm further as she glanced over at him, the ghost of a smile on her face. “I don’t know. You contagious?”

“I don’t think so?” 

“...Almost tempting then,” she admitted as she blushed but tried not to fidget. “I still don’t get in the habit of kissing people I’m not seeing.”

Now he was the one flushing. “You saw my family…” he reminded. “You’ve seen my father meddle in our second year through a first year,” he continued, not even daring uttering Ginny's name. “After all that...after everything, you want to kiss me and see me?” he couldn’t believe it.

“Your family isn’t you. Your mother saved Harry, you refused to identify him. Despite everything else and the history between us, I want to kiss you. But I don’t want to be just some girl you snog because it’s convenient,” she explained it and actually tugged lightly at a strand of hair. It was frizzing again without the hair potion. 

Draco looked at her as she spoke, paying attention to her words as much as her expressions. “You’re definitely not convenient by any means,” he pointed out in a bit of a mutter. He leaned closer.

At that she simply rolled her eyes.“I’m not a casual sort of girl. I still have a crush on you, so it would hurt if you were kissing me and then were around Parkinson for example,” she almost grumbled and chewed at her bottom lip. 

At Pansy’s name he pulled back and sighed. “I don’t want to be around her,” he swallowed down. “Our parents sort of…” he wasn’t sure how to explain it. “It’s complicated okay?”

Hermione nodded with a slight sigh. “Sounds complicated without you saying more than that,” and with what she had seen. That thought had her almost fidget and she let out a slow breath. “We both like each other, right?”

Draco nodded.

“I know that you probably wouldn’t want to be seen with me, because of your family, but I can’t keep doing this with you unless we try…” she trailed off. Was she really going to suggest this?

His fingers drew over her arm. “Like last night?” he said. He hadn’t exactly been discreet with her on his arm. Of course, he half expected the family owl to burst through the window.

“I’m honestly surprised you wanted us to match and everything,” she admitted as she glanced over at him, relaxing under those light touches. “It’s a bravery I didn’t expect, but I suppose I’m asking what do you want out of this, Draco?”

He touched her arm, and her shoulder before brushing her hair back. “After everything that happened last year, you really want a detailed five year plan?” he asked. “Can’t this just... be?” His entire life had been planned and scheduled. He didn’t want to overthink this.

She closed her eyes at those continued touches, half leaning into it. “A five year plan? No, of course not, but knowing if you actually want to date me or not, that would be preferable. Liking me doesn’t necessarily mean you want to try and date me.”

“I want to...it’s just complicated,” he swallowed down. “How about we try discretion, and I promise I won’t let Pansy drag me in another broom closet.”

“I can work with discretion...as long as no one drags you into any more broom closets,” she attempted to joke but her heart was hammering. It again felt like it was about to hammer out of her chest. This couldn’t be real. 

Were they really agreeing to seeing each other? His throat felt tight at that. The hand gently touching her shifting to cup her cheek. All he wanted to do was kiss her. 

Turning her head, she opened her eyes to look at him with a bit of a smile. That seemed to be an agreement after a fashion, didn’t it? Her gaze dropped to his lips and she leaned in, gently kissing him. 

Eyes closing, he met those lips, pulling her in closer. There was too much space between them. All he wanted was to close every single inch that stood in the way. As though it could bridge every other gap separating them.

She didn’t resist him. She pressed a bit closer to him and wrapped her arms around him as she deepened the kiss a bit more. Rather than keeping it completely gentle, she seemed like she was willing to let it build, to distract them from things that happened before.

Any distraction was welcome, especially like this. Deepening the kiss, he pulled her even closer, a warm hand finding its way beneath fabric to smooth over the small of her back.

Skin to skin contact had her shiver and press a little bit closer to him, her chest almost pressed to his there next to him as they kissed. Her fingers experimentally traced over that bare shoulder of his.

Draco’s hand moved upwards, touching over the crook of her side, sliding up her back to curl over her shoulder and press her firmly against him.

There wasn’t a reason to pull away this time, no doubt about whether or not he wanted her there, and so when he closed that last bit of space and held her close she almost sighed. Hermione deepened the kiss a bit further, her fingers brushing along the back of his neck while the other slowly started to trace down along his side. 

Their proximity only had him grow more confidant, rolling her onto her back as they continued to mix kisses and brushes of skin.

A soft sound of surprise left her at that, her grip tightening on him slightly at that shift in position, but she didn’t stop.

That soft moan of sorts made him deepen the kiss, a leg slipping between hers to part them. Right then, only Hermione existed. Her body, her skin, her lips. He wanted her, all of her. 

Shivers lightly rolled down her spine and her legs parted slowly for him, so he could get closer. It was done without thought as her fingers lightly trailed down his back, one hand staying at the back of his neck.

With the shift he found himself between her thighs, kissing her with greater hunger. His hands under her shirt working to bring it over her head, wanting to feel her against him. After so many years of imagining it, he wasn’t passing up the opportunity.

Once the shirt was lifted off of her she blushed a more brilliant shade of red, rivaling that of her Gryffindor colors, and her heart beat faster. Breaking the kiss to get a deeper breath, she had to fight the urge to cover back up, her eyes a little wide and her lips still parted from their kisses. 

That doe eyed look had his own cheeks flushing. She was beautiful, he wanted to tell her as much, but he had no words at that moment. Seeing her had him speechless. Instead he traced his nose against her cheekbone, pressing light kisses.

Everything felt rather surreal, but she didn’t pull away. Her fingers brushed through his hair and her eyes fell closed a moment as she tried to catch her breath from their kisses. With him settled between her legs the way he was she could _feel_ the effect she was having on him. 

Draco was glad for the looseness of his pajama pants, though it did nothing to conceal his firmness. Though he tried so far to avoid it, he couldn’t help but press against her, to let her feel just how much she drove him with want.


	31. Under Covers

Hermione felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest and like liquid heat was pooling and coiling through her body. Like snakes. It was no wonder it was snake like with the serpent she had above her. Above her and currently settled between her legs with his bare chest pressed to her bare chest. 

His heart raced, pulsing blood through his length, making his ears feel like they were submerged under water. Trailed kisses had him going from her cheek to her breast, his hips gently rolling against her, silently telling her everything he wanted to do to her.

Her breath hitched at that roll and she clutched at him, that heat to her cheeks and her rapid heart beat making it hard to catch her breath. The kisses from her cheek to her breasts had her almost squirm. No one had given her this much physical attention, her touches in comparison were nearly feather light. 

She was so quiet, he almost wondered if he wasn’t doing it right. Of course those breaths of hers gave him a bit of confidence. With a hand tangled in her locks, he kept his weight on that forearm to explore her with the other. A flight of fingers across her shoulder, a palm trailing along the dip in her waist, a firm grasp on a breast while he teased the other with his mouth. All until he was cupping her sex over her clothes, giving it a tentative press.

That hold he had on her had her eyes widen a bit more. She was about to say something before his mouth started to tease her breast along with that grasp. A quiet moan left her lips and she almost arched into the attention as shivers and more of that heat rolled through her. She felt like she was burning up. But when his hand went lower she gasped. 

“Draco…” she managed, her words were almost a whine unintentionally. 

Pleasure and pride were clear on his features as he continued his assault, nimbly tracing her through her pants as he shifted to meet her gaze.

The continued teasing had her almost squirm, that continued build of want nearly melting her into a puddle. Her legs almost tightened around him, almost closing on him even as he traced her. Curiosity and desire were almost taking over the forefront of her mind. 

Gently kissing her neck he murmured, “Relax.” Feeling her clenching had him slow, though not fully stop yet. He would if she asked though.

The slower touches had her easing up on that grip on him with her legs, lightly chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed up at him. It was a conflicting storm of things brewing inside of her, want and hesitation, the need to continue and the need to cover back up. But maybe just a little bit more touch wouldn’t be bad.

His fingers touched her a bit longer until he pulled back to kiss her. Only he paused. The way she bit her lip, that look in her eyes. Slowly he settled his hand on her thigh. 

“You’ve never done this have you?” he said gently, a bit of a sigh to his words. It wasn’t his usual judgy tone, something different almost akin to disappointment but not quite.

As he stopped touching her, part of her wanted to whine, but she flushed at the question. Crap. Well, she supposed she’d have to tell him eventually wouldn’t she?

“No...I haven’t,” she admitted, not quite meeting his gaze. 

“Anything?” He asked curiously.

The blush felt like it was burning her at this rate. “Nothing more than heavy petting and snogging,” she admitted quietly. 

Although silent, he nodded. His mind was racing. “Okay,” he managed under his breath. This wasn’t something he’d been prepared for. “Was earlier okay?” He has to ask. He was a gentleman despite his attitude at times.

“Earlier was fine,” she nodded. He felt nice. Part of her wanted to keep him close, her finger gently tracing down his back. “Intense in a way but nice.”

This complicated things. For him at least. It was new to her, and the war had shifted his own needs from sexual encounters. “I don’t want to push you into anything, but if we…” he wasn’t even sure how to start. “I guess what I’m saying is we’ll have to discuss things, set boundaries,” he regained composure.

A bit of a smile curved her lips. “...I suppose we will. What we’ve done so far is fine. If I don’t like something I will tell you as much,” she explained. She didn’t think that she’d yell or anything, but she would get him to stop if she was uncomfortable. 

For a moment he seemed to merely study her, as if he were weighing the options. Part of him wanted to bring it all to a screeching halt, and yet, could he deny her like this? She was here, nearly naked beside him. Eyes on her, he brushed the inside of her thigh. “So this is okay?” he asked in a breath, the back of his curled digits sliding up against her folds tucked beneath her undergarments.

The shorts she had on felt far too short and tight at the moment, but she shivered under his touch. There was a slight twitch through her thigh, like she wasn’t sure if she should tighten her legs around him or spread them open a bit further. Taking in a slow breath, she relaxed slowly and nodded her head. “Yes...it feels nice,” she breathed. 

Draco was careful in his motions, feeling the quiver in her legs. He had almost expected them to cave over his hand, but she remained still. “What if I wanted to touch you?” he asked, trying to see how far he could go before committing to it.

“Touch me...how?” She needed clarity, even as her cheeks burned as she could guess what he meant.

“Here,” he continued to tease her. “With my fingers,” he smirked, enjoying just how red she got.

The continued brushes of his fingers had her eyes almost flutter closed as she lightly bit at her bottom lip. “I...Yes. You can,” she finally answered, her gaze dropping from his as she bit her bottom lip. 

That at least gave him something to work with. Rather than simply do what she allowed, he kissed her. Slowly, deeply.

The kiss had her nearly melt into his bed. Her arms wrapped around him as she kissed him back, her fingers brushing through his hair and keeping him close. It was easy to relax again with the way their lips met.

Draco was deliberate in his motions, wanting to make her at ease, to have her enjoy herself. He touched her over her thighs, along the inside of them. Slowly he explored the parts of her she had granted him permission over. Every meeting of lip meant to ease her as he discovered her.

The feather light touches had her almost tremble under his ministrations, her own hands tightening on him a little as she kept those kisses. Hermione was perfectly fine with letting him take the lead as her body relaxed, her breath hitching slightly under his attention. 

It was a while before his hand slipped under the cover of her shorts and undergarments, fingers gently tracing her labia before drawing into her folds to outline them as well with a seasoned digit.

A soft gasp left her lips against his, but there was no tightening of her legs around his hand like there had been earlier. Her legs stayed parted for him as she deepened the kiss a bit further, a shiver winding its way down her spine. 

Those gasps and soft sounds that escaped her pushed him further. He reached into her undergarments, tracing her curls and then her labia. Without parting from their kiss he felt along her, teasing that small bundle and moving downward, and up again.

Her grip tightened on him further and a soft moan left her lips as he teased at that bundle of nerves. It felt like she was burning up and her hips almost arched into his teasing touches as she kissed him. 

His tongue met hers as he slipped a digit into her. Not once did his thumb leave from where it teased her. 

Lost in pleasure, she broke from the kiss as her body arched into his touch. “Oh…” she sounded, breath hitching from his calculated strokes.

Every reaction she made spurred him forward, watching her a spell. The way her lips parted so beautifully to make those pleasured notes. From the corner of his eyes he could see how her hips rose to meet him. He took his time with her, his digit delving into her, exploring her as he trailed kisses down her neck.

Hermione was not unfamiliar with her own touch, but having him being the one guiding this encounter and touching her had her nearly melting. He was being so thorough, slow, building her with careful strokes of his fingers and brushes of his lips. Tilting her head, another soft moan left her as her eyes fluttered closed.

Those moans had him nip at her shoulder as he continued to pleasure her, set on making her fall apart for him.

“Draco,” she breathed, her voice quieter as she opened her eyes to look at him, her hand trailing down his body and stroking at him through his pants. She was about to say something more before footsteps could be heard through the door to his room, heels clicking up the stairs. 

Blood was pulsing through his body. He watched her lips move but could barely hear what escaped them, though later realizing it was his name. So busy building her up, he didn’t register the steps until there was a knock on the door, causing him to freeze.

“Malfoy, is everything alright in there?” Professor McGonagall’s voice was crisp.

With a finger on his lips he motioned for Hermione to be quiet. 

“Professor,” he said, frozen in place. “Just a minute,” he called, reaching for his wand to send her clothes flying to the other side of the bed, before drawing the curtains. Messing with his pillows he made Hermione’s presence easily dismissed as a wall of pillows. “Under the sheets,” he muttered, and settled back in his bed as the door began to open.

Hermione settled quickly under the covers as he instructed, keeping the blankets over her head as she tried to be still. There was still blush in her cheeks but the heat in her was slowly leaving her body. Now she really wanted her shirt. 

"I overheard Miss Parkinson at breakfast about how you had fallen ill yesterday. I figured I’d check on you,” she said in her usual tone. “Are you alright?” she asked.

Draco was glad his room was dark, and the curtains around his bed made for some privacy. “I’m better,” he said. “Granger gave me some concoction called Night Quills or whatever...absolutely dreadful stuff,” he said in his cool drawl. Hoping he wouldn’t have to explain himself. “Knocked me out most of the day.”

“I see,” she murmured. “I worried when I heard you groan, are you sure you don’t want to see Madam Pomfrey.”

Draco sat up in bed, cheeks flushed as he exposed himself. “I assure you, Professor, I’m fine. Just taking advantage of having the entire quarters to myself. Or so I thought,” he lied, but it came out as though that was exactly what he’d been doing.

The fact that he did that had Hermione flush in sympathy. Knowing just how...excited that he had been with her in bed. They had been getting out of hand but that was not something she had really thought about. Not until now. It had her have to focus on staying still.

It wasn’t easy to fluster a woman like Minerva McGonagall. Naked students weren’t her first go round, but even Draco knew what she was looking at. As if her gaze threw flames he put his marked arm behind his back, more embarrassed by it than anything else that was going on.

“If you’re feeling well enough then perhaps you should patrol, obviously one of you is taking your responsibilities seriously,” she snapped.

“Of course professor,” he said though it wasn’t quite as polite as it could have been. “I do so enjoy our pep talks,” he muttered.

“What was that Mr Malfoy?”

“Nothing.”

“Indeed.” After a few moments of silence she turned on her heels, telling him to get dressed and find his peers.

Hermione waited a moment or two for McGonagall to actually leave before she sat up, keeping the sheet around her torso as she glanced over at her partner. “That was close,” she muttered. 

“Indeed,” he nodded. 

“I suppose you should get dressed. I’ll meet you for patrol a bit after...Are you sure you’re feeling alright though?” The concern couldn’t be helped. Not with the emotions she was actually allowing herself to feel.

Clothes. Patrol. All things he would much rather skip. Laying on his back he took deep steadying breaths. At least McGonagall rid him of any remaining erection he’d held.

“Nothing a cold shower couldn’t fix,” he promised, slowly peeling himself from her. 

He moved to his closet and pulled a few garments before heading to the adjoining room. “I’ll meet you near the grand staircase,” he said simply, giving her privacy to change and what not.

Gathering up her own clothes, she pulled on her shirt and brushed her fingers through her hair. She needed to get cleaned up as well but she went around from his room, down the stairs, and then back up the other stairs to her own room. She could do a cleansing charm and get a bath once patrols were done. 

It didn’t take her long to get dressed in her uniform, brushing out her hair and trying not to blush about just how much she’d already let him do. Several years worth of crush building up at once was dangerous. 

Draco didn’t linger in the shower. Merely washing off the last couple days. Refreshing his mind and body with the cool spray of water. It helped him focus. She’d never done anything, and with how things had changed for him, he wasn’t sure she’d appreciate him beyond what they’d just done. A sobering thought as he got dressed, preparing to meet her as convened.


	32. Against the Stacks

Between classes, their duties, and just the general build up to the holidays, getting any time together with Hermione Granger that didn’t feel like their day to day allowances seemed hard.  
It would be another week before they could go to Hogsmeade again, and though they were opting for discretion, Draco had wanted to do something that felt more normal. Though far from the school boy he’d once been, the occasional spark of courtship still rippled through him. Most of the castle was easing to sleep, and though they were still caught beneath the weight of upcoming exams and a litany of projects, the Slytherin young man had managed to pull some strings to get something together worthy of his name.

Hermione had just finished another paper and she couldn’t hold back the sigh from her lips. She and Draco had been helping the other with their nightmares, casually letting their hands brush on patrols, and stealing kisses when they could. But not all that much had changed other than the lack of them hiding from the other. At least she thought so. Tonight, Draco said he had something planned. But she wasn’t sure as to what.

A box of rare tomes had been sent to keep Madam Pince, the librarian, preoccupied for the rest of the evening. With some help from Peeves, the library itself would be free from any prying guests, and while the rest of the castle seemed to be in a lethargic state, his work on the back stocks was anything but. 

Small lights hovered magically overhead, plump cushions on the ground. There were stacks of books that worked more to their interests than merely school, and he’d managed to sneak a few snacks and drinks that wouldn’t leave any trace behind. Everything was nearly perfect, all that was missing was his date which he sauntered off to meet in front of the doors to the library.

The message to join him at the library had been surprising, but as she walked the halls, a little out of uniform other than her outer robe, she brushed her fingers through her hair as she went to the library doors. There were times they had to patrol here, but she doubted that was why he wanted her to meet him. 

At the sight of her, he adjusted the collar of his shirt, scratching lightly at the back of his neck before opening his mouth. 

“I had the other prefects take over our rounds for the night,” he said in greeting. “And the halls leading to the library should be free from any interruptions,” he continued, offering her his arm, a bit of a smug smile on his lips.

“Oh, you’ve been planning for a bit then,” she laughed softly as she took his offered arm, stepping in to place a kiss to his cheek gently. 

He led her into the library, closing the doors behind them with a muttered wandless spell. “Perhaps I’m merely efficient,” he offered with a bit of a smirk.

She couldn’t help but grin a bit. “Well, there was no doubt about that, but at least some planning had to go into it.” It was mostly teasing but she walked with him, letting him lead without any real concern. 

Beyond the moonlight that peered through mullioned windows, giving the stacks a silver gleam. 

“Only the best for my witch,” he said in a low tone, pulling his arm away to wrap it around her center. 

It would do until he could plan something more elaborate in Hogsmeade. Discretion might have been the name of the game, but it didn’t mean he was going to cut corners. 

That actually made her blush slightly as she leaned into his side and wrapped her arm around him securely. The casual touch outside of their tower was welcome. More than welcome, honestly. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’ll try to spoil me,” she asked in a hushed whisper, amusement there even as she blushed. The silver gleam of the library actually was calming, more so than it had ever been when she had snuck here before.

“Is that a problem?” He asked, leading her to the carefully set up alcove he’d altered for them.

As she moved into the alcove she paused at the floating lights and all the cushions. A more gentle smile curved her lips. “If it’s things like this then absolutely not,” she breathed before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. 

A smile spread from that small kiss. “And what would constitute a problem?” He asked, gently nudging her down on the cushions with him. 

The nudge was all she needed to actually move down into the cushions, moving to lean back against them. Taking a moment to consider it, she tapped a finger against her bottom lip. “Hmm, I’ll let you know. Can’t say I’ve had anyone to spoil me that much.” 

“Their loss,” he responded smoothly, casually wrapping an arm around her as he settled down. He would have assumed Krum had at the very least. The weasel being no surprise in the failure to be romantic category.

“Loss, huh?” She asked even as she moved in to lean in against him. He smelled amazing and the physical contact was something that she liked to indulge in. 

With a light kiss to her head he made a small “mhmmm,” sound. 

Though he was as calm as it got on the surface, beneath he was turmoil and anxiety. Years of adoring her from a distance, told he could never have her culminating into easy banter had his heart racing. How she could even sit there against him despite all he’d done still terrified him. 

“I convinced the kitchens to offer us some library safe snacks,” he said easily, summoning forth a board of small fruits, bites of cheese, and other easily snacked on items that wouldn’t leave crumbs or messes behind.

There was a sense of almost peace with him in moments like this, where she didn’t stress about what would happen with everything else. Harry and Ron, she was certain, would have a fit about this situation. And there was nothing guaranteed about any of this. 

“Well, it seems you really do think about everything,” she half teased as she picked up a piece of cheese from that board and popped it in her mouth. It was cute, almost like a picnic in the library. It wasn’t what she would have expected from him. 

“Down to the spill proof cups,” he offered with a smirk. 

A smile curved her lips at that and she chuckled. “I’m not sure if you’ve been more attentive to me or to the books.”

“I’ve seen your books,” he reminded her gently. “Almost puts Madam Pince to shame,” he chuckled. 

A faint flush filled her cheeks and she ran her fingers through her hair. “I do rather enjoy my books. I have a collection of leather-bound Muggle classics that the Weasleys are looking after for me.” 

“Can’t say I’ve read any of those,” he admitted. “I didn’t get to read most of Beedle the Bard’s stories until I hit Hogwarts, and even then, I’d had to do it in private,” he confessed. Tales like The Fountain of Fair Fortune and The Wizard and the Hopping Pot were far too kind towards muggles to be ever allowed within the halls of Malfoy Manor. Still, his mother had read him a few tales from the book, though his father had demanded several be cursed off the pages to avoid temptation.

“I hadn’t even heard of Beedle the Bard until last year. I have a copy now though and have read all of them,” she admitted. Ron had been so shocked that neither she nor Harry had read those tales. It made all the sense in the world that they hadn’t.

He had no doubt there had been a learning curve for her. “There are edited versions my father deemed acceptable,” his shoulders gave a light shrug. “My mother read the original ones that weren’t so...controversial.” It was a mild way of putting what had culminated into civil war.

That gave Hermione pause but she gave a slight nod of understanding as she selected a grape to pop into her mouth. It made sense. There were a lot of tales from Beedle the Bard that had Muggles actually looked after that she was sure Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t have wanted to encourage. “I see.”

“We had other stories you’ve likely never heard of,” he offered. “I rather liked this one that had daring knights even if they were doing things to impress a princess,” he chuckled. Perhaps there had been some recurring themes.

She chuckled some at that. “Daring knights and harrowing tales were a theme in things I read growing up. Including what I assumed were fictional accounts of Merlin until I got my Hogwarts letter.”

“Merlin does have fascinating tales.”

“He does. Reading stories of Arthur and Merlin made me wish for magic as a kid.”

“I can only imagine,” he said. He couldn’t imagine life without magic. 

“And it still wasn’t what I expected,” she chuckled as she rested her head on his shoulder, just enjoying the moment for now. 

His cheek settled atop her curls, his fingers brushing against the side of her arm. This felt right, more than anything else he’d experienced. It was as equally terrifying as it was exhilarating. 

“I had tutors long before Hogwarts to ensure I’d be at the top of my class,” he said, though that hadn’t quite played out. “Father’s been on the board of directors since I was born. Or so he says. I do recall joining him once or twice as a boy…” he smirked. He’d had advantages at every single turn, and yet she had bested him more times than he cared to admit.

She couldn’t help but chuckle as she let her eyes close. “Well, I suppose I didn’t make that easy for you...But being able to study this earlier might have given me even more of an edge,” she half teased even as she moved to lace their fingers together. 

His gaze fell on their tangled hands. How perfectly each digit seemed to complement the next. 

Turning her head, she opened her eyes and placed a kiss to his jaw. This moment, as simple as it was, felt nearly perfect. 

The warmth had a smile perk his lips. Gently turning, he claimed a gentle kiss.

Kissing him back gently, she relaxed further into his side where she was. It was surprisingly easy to lower her guard a bit more with him and just relax. 

Inching her closer he continued to claim her. His hand moved to brush her cheek, slowly building the exchange between deepening it. She tasted sweet, and he couldn’t get enough of her. 

There was very little space between them and she kissed him back. Her fingers brushed through his blonde locks as she pressed a bit closer. 

Slowly he pushed against her, taking her down into the cushions as they continued to kiss, needing to close what little space was left between them. 

Her breath hitched as she pressed back into the cushions, her fingers tracing through his hair and down the back of his neck gently. Hermione’s touch stayed light, almost nervously so. 

She didn’t stop him, which had him pause, pulling back to look at her. “Hey,” he said nervously, losing his own train of thought there for a second, fingers nimbly shifting to tuck a couple curls behind her ear.

“Hey yourself,” she greeted, tracing her fingers back up along his neck and into his hair. “I’m fine, Draco. Just...adjusting,” she blushed lightly but leaned up to trail light kisses along his jaw. 

“We always seem to end up like this, even when I try not to,” he admitted, biting his lower lip. This was the only place in the entire school where muggle tomes sat across from their wizarding counterparts. 

That did make her smile a little bit more and pull back to look at him. “You’re trying not to?” It came out teasing as she looked at him but she appreciated it. Even though part of her just wanted to feel as close to him as she possibly could. 

“If we’re trying for self control...we might want to sit back up…”

“Self-control is hard around you,” he chuckled, sitting up lightly. “I was hoping later, perhaps, but I guess I wanted to show this meant more…” he tried to explain, feeling lame. He didn’t usually have to explain himself.

That actually touched her a bit more than she thought it would as she looked at him, smiling gently as her fingers brushed along his cheek. “The fact you haven’t been pushy or pulling me into a broom cupboard shows that this means more…” but she wasn’t sure how much more yet. 

“I didn’t pull Pansy into a broom closet, that was her,” he amended. “And I don’t know what kind of guy you’ve been with Granger, but that’s not my style.” He was vaguely offended. 

As she sat up a bit she flushed slightly. “I’ve pointed out that I haven’t done _much_ with any other guys, Malfoy. Though Ronald did get...handsy,” she muttered with a slight wrinkle to her nose. 

“Yes, well he hasn’t exactly been raised a gentleman,” he bit the inside of his cheek. “I know you haven’t done much and I have,” he said simply. “I know what I like and what I want, and that doesn’t include making you uncomfortable unless it’s something you enjoy…”

The mere implication had her blush a deeper shade of red. “Well...I didn’t think it would be. I’m not uncomfortable, Draco,” she reassured before she ran her fingers through her hair and let her gaze skirt away to the stacks they were between. 

“I know,” he said in a breath of a tone. As much as he’d been brought up with the idea that he’d deflower his wife, he knew that wasn’t exactly true. He hadn’t exactly expected to care for someone he’d be initiating in such a manner. “I guess I’m just...unsure you’ll be into some of the things I like,” he admitted. “And I don’t want to take away from your own…” How did he even start to explain it?

“I think that might be a conversation for after we...take things that far. Until then it’s just a thought,” she mused. Though her cheeks stayed pink as she thought about the books she had in her own room. Romance novels were not something she should bring up. 

He nodded. Stiff upper lip and sweeping things under the proverbial rug. He could do that easily enough. “Before we take things that far,” he nodded. “Another night, though,” he assured.

“I’m not worried about you pressuring me. Another night is understood,” she smiled as she reached over and took a strawberry off the platter of snacks he had. “But...the holidays are getting closer. Will you be going home?”

“If I value my life,” he responded as if that were even a question. “Are y-” he began and realized that she didn’t exactly have a place to return to. Not really. “I didn’t mean…” he caught himself. Perhaps he’d try to stay.

“It’s fine...I know. I’ll be staying at the castle. It’s too weird to go back to the Weasley house this year.” Though she also didn’t like the idea of staying at the castle alone. Luna had offered her place but that was a different level of strange she was not prepared for. 

He reached and took her hand. There was still time to figure it out. He was relieved to hear she wouldn’t go to the Weasleys though. 

Squeezing his hand, she glanced up at him with a small smile. “I’m okay,” she reassured. Leaning against him again and keeping their fingers laced she sighed. “We’re going to make time to be around each other in Hogsmeade, right?”

“I have a few ideas for our Hogsmeade trip…” he offered. “We could spend the night in the village if you wanted,” he offered. A bit of an escape.

“I’d like that. Could potentially stay the weekend in the village if we wanted to,” she started to add to the plan, not knowing how fleshed out his own ideas were. 

“I’d like that,” he offered. “I can get us separate rooms for appearances sake.” 

“As long as you’re not trying to carefully tell me that you don’t like cuddling me,” she teased again, attempting to get them back to being a bit more light hearted. Thinking about her parents was not where she wanted her mind to stray.

He pulled her in closer. “I enjoy having you close,” he all but purred in her ear, giving her lobe a playful pinch between his lips. If they claimed a room together, the rumors would never end, and he could only imagine the repercussions it would cause. 

That purr made her shiver but a gasp left her at that light pinch of her ear before she giggled, a sound she hadn’t thought was in her at all really. Unless she was nervous. Then the giggling didn’t stop, but this wasn’t that. 

Girls giggling wasn’t a sound he wasn’t accustomed to, but it was oddly satisfying coming from her. He’d never imagined her the type, and he didn’t dislike it. He repeated the motion to see if it was a sensitive spot he had uncovered. “I plan to leave one of those rooms empty,” he added, not wanting to be unclear. 

The repeated action made her shiver and she ducked away a little bit. It tickled along with something else...almost like kissing her neck. But she looked up at him with a smile. “Good...I like sleeping next to you, and you keep the nightmares away.”

“A mutual benefit,” he lifted her chin, lips hovering over hers.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she breathed before closing the gap and pressing her lips to his. 

Kissing her was something that seemed inevitable at this point, and he didn’t fight it. She felt perfect against him. Gently, he cupped her cheek, deepening the exchange.

She pressed into that hand on her cheek, kissing him back but not deepening it further. The desire to was there of course, remembering just how he felt touching more of her, but if he was trying to behave then so would she. 

He didn’t fight it, he couldn’t. Even if he wanted to. He wasn’t sure why he had no self control around Granger, but ever since he’d stopped the front and guise of disgust, there was no barrier there to act as a buffer.

The taste of him on her lips always grounded and calmed her, though she had to wonder if she savored them so much because they were rarer throughout the day. Breaking the kiss, she pulled back just enough to look at him. 

“If neither of us starts reading, I’m going to just keep kissing you,” she warned with a smile. 

“Not sure I could focus on reading,” he admitted, catching his breath as he looked over her. “Though if we continue kissing, I might want to taste more than your lips,” he said, a glimmer of mischief in his silver hues.

Blush flooded her cheeks, making them a rosy color at the implication. Her finger brushed along his shoulder and then up his neck and along his jaw. “You’re a bad influence,” she teased, making sure he knew she wasn’t being serious in the least. 

“Mmmm definitely,” he agreed. “You’re not saying no though,” he retorted, emboldened.

If she could get brighter she would. “I like how it felt before we were interrupted before, and I’ll admit I’m...curious,” she explained. Curious. There had to be a better word than that. 

A laughing smile curved his lips. “I’m sure you are,” he murmured, leaning her back with more kisses. So much for taking things slowly. “Think you can be quiet?” He asked in a husky tone, a hand brushing her thigh. They could read after.

It was nice to feel something that felt the exact opposite of terror. Where she might have been slow before...she liked how he touched her. “I can certainly try. There are charms that can be used,” she murmured, shivering at that light brush to her thigh. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” He smirked a glint of mischief in his silver hues. 

Oh, oh dear, she thought to herself as she looked up at him. Blushing was going to be a permanent part of this she was certain. “You want me to be loud?”

“Not tonight,” he said, trailing a few fingers innocently from her knee, slowly drawing it along her inner thigh. 

A shiver rolled through her at that and her legs parted slightly for him. “But eventually,” she couldn’t help but query as she watched him. 

“Definitely,” he nodded. Oh he could only imagine how sweet she would sound screaming in pleasure for him. 

“Of course,” she breathed as she leaned in and pressed kisses lightly along his jaw, hiding just how red she was as she could. 

Those kisses had him smile as his hand crept up beneath her skirt, brushing over the outer fabric of her knickers teasingly. He only touched her for a few seconds before moving up to slip his fingers on either side. “Can I take these off?” he asked gently.

Her breath hitched slightly before she gave a slight nod of her head. “Yes...you can,” she decided as she chewed lightly at her bottom lip. Nervousness rolled and buzzed through her but she wanted him to touch her. 

Keeping her gaze he eased the garment down her legs, taking his time before throwing it off to the side. He gave a first kiss beside her ankle, another a few inches above that, and then again until he passed her knee and watched her as he drew closer to his endgame.

One of her hands gripped a pillow that was under her lightly, small shivers rolling through her at each gossamer brush of his lips on her skin. She felt caught in those grey eyes each time he looked at her, and as he continued trailing kisses up her leg she parted them a bit more. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Smiling against her flesh he pushed her skirt over her pelvis to settle between her thighs. Slowly he shifted to kiss at the top of her labia, offering light brushes against her nub. His tongue gently traced around it and down the cleft of her folds.

That first brush of his lips had her gasp softly before she lightly bit into her bottom lip. Her free hand moved, tracing through his pale blond locks as he explored her. “Oh,” she barely breathed the sound. 

He paused and looked at her a moment, a silent warning to stay quiet. They were in a library after all.

Hermione gave a slight nod of her head. If she was loud, he’d stop and they’d get caught.

At that, he resumed his motions against her core, his hands settling on her thighs as he kissed and licked over her center.

The focused attention there had her hand tightening in his hair and on the pillow as she bit down a bit harder on her bottom lip. This was different than she might have imagined, for a number of reasons, but she kept her legs parted for him all the same. 

Draco smiled against her folds as he teased them. He slipped a finger into her in a slow and gentle manner.

Her breath hitched and she squirmed, her hips almost lifting into the attention as a soft muffled sound left her. But she didn’t try to get away, staying still for him there. 

Steadily, he teased her, slipping in and out of her with a single digit as he lapped away at her clit. Every so often he circled inside of her, working to slip a second finger in.

The circling had her arching a bit more and her hand gripped his hair a bit more tightly. Her eyes fell closed for a moment and her breathing was a bit more uneven. This felt better than she’d ever read it described. 

Every last reaction was filed away for a later time. He was unlocking her secrets with every touch and flick of his tongue. Once he found that firm yet soft spot he made a come hither motion with his fingers, stroking her sweet spot as his tongue doubled its assault.

That one motion made her body jerk and a soft whimper left her as she tried not to make a sound. It was quiet, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she felt that heat coiling through her and tightening things in her body. A light tremble was starting in her legs as she kept them spread, so close to falling apart for him. 

His gaze on her, he never flinched in his actions. He continued to drive her towards that overwhelming sensation. He’d often imagined watching her like this, being the cause of her undoing, but this was so much better. 

Opening her eyes to look at him in the dim lights, her expression was filled with barely contained pleasure. Those consistent touches had her shivering and she bit down on her bottom lip almost hard enough to make it bleed to keep herself from moaning too loudly, her inner walls tightening on his fingers as she came apart with a whimper of pleasure. 

He knew he had succeeded, but the Slytherin head boy didn’t stop. He worked through the contractions around his fingers. All the while, his tongue lapped at her, leaving a glisten beyond his lips and down his chin. When he finally pulled away he brushed a kiss to her core, licking his fingers clean as he sat back on his haunches.

The continued assault had her squirming beneath him, almost pulling his hair as her other hand gripped the pillow. To avoid pulling any hair out, she let go of him and as he stopped she shivered and sank into the pillows beneath her, releasing her bottom lip as she worked to catch her breath. Her eyes stayed on him even as she blushed. 

“Such a good girl,” he praised, cleaning his chin off with a nonverbal spell. 

Those two words actually made her blush more deeply. “Good girl?” She questioned quietly, still a little out of breath. 

Crap. “You kept quiet,” he amended. “I-“ he wasn’t sure how to explain what he’d just said. “I like that you did…”

“It was difficult,” she admitted as she slowly sat up, brushing one hand through her hair slowly. “Could you give me back….” she blushed a bit more and glanced down but back up at him. 

He nodded and reached over to grab the discarded garment. Rather than give them to her he slipped her legs through the appropriate holes and brought them up her legs.

The touch made her shiver, but she let him help her get dressed again. It felt good, all of that in fact, and it had her blushing even more. Why was it easier with him than it had been with Ron? 

Banishing her ex from her mind, she smoothed her skirt back over her legs and leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth as she blushed. “That was…” she trailed off. What word could she possibly use?

Draco couldn’t help feeling rather smug as she seemed to need to smoothe over her skirt and straighten something out if only to find some sort of control. He didn’t say anything despite being tempted to, it would be bad form to brag.

“Indeed,” he agreed.

That almost sounded worse than if he had bragged. Her blush didn’t seem to be fading any time soon and she smiled up at him a little bit. “...your attentiveness extends beyond assignments,” she settled for. If he wasn’t going to say anything specifically then neither would she. 

At that he chuckled lightly. Sounded to him like she hadn’t had the most attentive partners. “What can I say, I take great care when it matters,” he offered.

“You won’t catch me complaining,” she nuzzled in against him with a soft sigh.

His arm wrapped around her. There were so many questions dancing in his mind, but he kept them to himself. It seemed rude. “Good,” he said with a bit of a chuckle.

If she knew he had questions, she would have asked. Instead she paused for just a moment before moving into his lap with her side against his chest, resting her head right over his heart as her eyes closed. After that she wanted a bit of closeness.

Draco easily kept her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. “You want to read something?” he offered. There were a number of tomes around them, most about Merlin. Some fiction, some fact.

A small smile curved her lips as she stayed tucked in against him and she nodded her head. “I’d love to read with you,” she shifted closer.

Idly, the tips of his fingers traced her form. “See anything you like?” he had a feeling if anyone could find something in the library that was familiar, it was the young woman tucked in his arms. His own gaze lingered on the shelves. Some titles more obvious than others. A dark leather bound nearby read La Morte D’Arthur, another droned about Merlin and Cauldrons.

“Hmmm,” she mused as he stroked over her lightly. She relaxed into the touches and reached out, actually grabbing the book _La Morte D’Arthur_. It was a classic and she so enjoyed it. Plus it was time to get away from studies at the moment. 

As she settled back he got comfortable, his head leaning against hers gently, ready to read over her shoulder once she would crack it open. He wasn’t exactly familiar with the title, other than the odd thought that it was wrong, but perhaps it wasn’t actually French, or just an old version no longer spoken.

Opening the book, she stayed close to him like that, curled in his lap and enjoying the proximity. It was better than the last time she had spent time with a boy she had been interested in.


	33. Free Will

Professor Karasu’s methods hadn’t gotten any more sane as the term advanced. Their latest class had been just as crazy as every other. A mix of muggle science and magic, pushing boundaries the likes Hogwarts had never seen before. Their latest project had been more based in magic than it had been anything else for a change, but it was still hard. 

With Hermione Granger by his side, he didn’t doubt their ability to work together, or figure out their specific problem. 

A transfigured object sat before them, altered from its original state. The professor had laid out what it had been, giving them only a few elements so that they could reverse the problem and give values in order to properly revert their target to its original state, and solve the equation.

As they finished up their work, glancing over the last of their material, the bell rang, releasing them and onto their next class, one they seemed to do well in even if they never seemed to truly appreciate it in the least.

“Perhaps we should check in on the Room of Requirement on patrol,” he said, as they made their way through the halls to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Shifting her books in her arms, she glanced over at her partner and gave a slight nod of her head. “We probably should. Rumors have been spreading about the room again,” she agreed. 

There were always whispers about the elusive chamber, not that it had been something he cared about. Mostly a tall tale most students claimed. The few that knew of it tended to guard its secret well, if only to avoid having to share it.

While he didn’t care about the whispers, she did a little bit. The bookworm had no idea if he was actually planning something with her with that or if it was simply their job. 

Time to chatter and figure out their action plan came to an end as professor Winger began his lesson, the class quietening down. Much like transfiguration, their coursework was not typical. Excitement could be felt through most groups, but their year, it was different. NEWTs were known for their exhaustive qualities, and what was expected within their set slot with the auror, was anything but pleasant. 

After their papers on a number of equally unpleasant topics, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the classroom was empty upon arrival. Desks had been stacked to the back of the room, and their professor sat perched in his animagus form on the railing of the balcony that stood before his office.

Instructions were set on the board for them to form two equal lines in their assigned pairs. Quickly, a collective sigh seemed to have been breathed before pair by pair found their space. Once settled, a rustle of feathers and a flutter of wings resounded before the professor settled at the helm of their rows.  
“You,” he pointed to the row to his left. “Wands out,” he ordered. “You’ll be practicing the Imperius curse on your partners,” he stated looking at the lot before him. “I don’t expect most of you to succeed, but who am I to judge,” he shrugged. “You’ll have your partner do what I’ve assigned you.” A lazy wave of his hand had small parchment pieces appear in the hand of each of the student’s with wands out.

Hermione’s read “state ferrets are cute.” It took everything in her not to snort at that. The fact that this was her task meant that the story circulated even further away from Hogwarts than she had originally thought. Taking in a slow breath she focused her mind as she looked right at Draco. Soundlessly, and with barely any movement whatsoever, she cast the spell. 

Draco hadn’t liked that look, and though occlumency had taught him much, it hadn’t stopped the warmth he felt inside as she cast the spell. Intent was needed, and if he knew anything about his partner was her will to succeed. Still he found himself in an odd place in his mind. Control was something he struggled with every day, a stark contrast to the light feeling the spell caused. Of the unforgivables he’d only felt this one once under Professor Moody, and he had no desire to fail again.

It was difficult, a battle of wills, and while she had been training her own mind she knew he had been training it more. That incident while he was sick had proven that and now? Now she was attempting to actually force her will against his in the subtle way of this spell. Attempting to coax the words out of him. 

He could hear in his head, feel her there. Every inch of him wanted to succumb, until he realized what she was asking of him. 

“I WILL NOT CLAIM THOSE ELONGATED RATS TO BE CUTE!” 

Though nothing had been spoken, his voice had left his body, anger having him turn towards the professor. A look that most certainly stated that ferrets were predatory. 

She heard him. Loud and clear, and actually blushed just a touch as she tried to focus, but the attempt was not going to go well any longer. The fact that she had gotten into his head at all though had been more than some of their classmates had accomplished. 

His aggravation had pulled most of the class’ attention. Winger had looked at the pair, as though assessing them, though said nothing. “No need to shout,” he said cooly. “Now the other side,” he looked to Draco.

The blonde didn’t bother to read his parchment, nor did he reach for his wand.

“Is there a problem Mr Malfoy?”

His silver hues turned on the auror. “I had my fill of unforgivables in this class last year, when you have something to teach me on the matter, I’ll gladly pay attention,” he hissed, putting his bag on his shoulder, and for the first time in his Academic career, stormed out of a class. His body shook throughout, his blood pressure dropping with every step.

Hermione glanced up at the professor and tucked her wand back into her sleeve. She had no desire to duel with the former auror and was not about to have that suggested. As she scooped up her own bag onto her shoulder she left the room, darting after Draco. 

So riled and lost to his thoughts, he barely registered the steps following at a distance behind him. Though he had no conscious knowledge of where he was heading, his body led him to the corridor he had mentioned patrolling. Anything to get away from what laid behind the door to Mr. Winger’s classroom.

As he continued those hurried steps, she actually had to sprint a moment to catch up to him. She gently dragged his arm as she took in a breath. “Draco…” she tried to get his attention. 

It wasn’t until she grasped his arm that he realized she was calling him, not just some vague ebb of memory tugging at the edges of his mind. For a moment he merely blinked, watching her as she stood before him.

“What?”

The word came out as if he had been casually strolling about the school, and not a whirlwind of anger storming through the halls during class hours.

“Makes you wonder what he would have tried to get you to make me say,” she attempted to distract him. Since no one was around, she let her hand move down his arm and let their fingers tangle together. 

Of all the things she could have said. He merely just looked at her. Shock flashed through his features only to be replaced by a tension in his jaw and a bob in his throat. 

“It doesn’t matter. I likely would have succeeded,” he said simply. It wasn’t his usual braggart way. “I would rather not have to make use of what I learned outside of class in the last few years.” A flash of guilt stroke his cheeks before he reigned himself in. Mind over matter, a mantra he that had kept him alive.

Squeezing his hand, she looked at him and smiled just a little bit. “Probably could have...but we know what we’re both capable of. Sorry he wanted me to get you to say that,” she apologized and stayed at his side, walking with him at a more even pace towards the Room of Requirement.

His fingers slipped through hers. “I’m surprised you tried,” he said honestly. Perhaps the Gryffindor princess wasn’t as pristine as people thought she was. Of course the last year had changed everyone.

“I have rarely argued with a professor...and it seemed harmless enough. I realize you can’t have enjoyed that experience...but I didn’t realize you hate them so thoroughly,” she explained, leaning in to his side a bit and keeping her hand in his as she shifted her bag on her shoulder.

“I was transfigured into a ferret against my will,” he reminded more pointedly than he’d wanted. With a breath he refocused. “I suppose I expected you to be less callous with free will,” he threw her a side glance. “I do recall hearing you storm out of Divination over less,” he teased.

A sigh left her lips as she ran her fingers through her hair with her free hand and leaned into him. “Lines blurred a bit after last year...and I know what happened. If anything I expected you to hate transfiguration rather than the ferrets,” she replied. 

“I rather potions,” he conceded. “But no, I don’t hate a subject because an imposter decided to stir the pot,” he shrugged.

“But the animal is fair game?” She asked, though there was no judgement in her voice just those sparks of curiosity.

Draco’s cheeks tensed the slightest bit, though he nodded. “I’m not particularly fond of them, but I don’t actively dislike them either.”

Hermione made a mental note of that and gave a nod of her head, her thumb lightly rubbing back and forth along the back of his hand. 

“Well we’re here,” he looked at the hall they were in. “Want to check it out?” he asked, looking at the wall that would house the door should they demand it.

“We can. It would be better to be productive since we left class,” she replied and honestly felt...odd about it. How often had she ever really ditched class?

His hand remained tangled with hers as they walked past the wall. _A place students would escape to._ he thought on that first place.

As he thought as they walked back and forth past the wall, she moved with him and let him set up the room, let him see how they could check the room. She hadn’t often gone here to try and hide, other than during the time of Dumbledore’s Army.

Twice more they paced the halls before a door appeared before them. Inside, the room was a mixture of comfort and chaos. Items that had been discarded in heaps smaller than the room he’d used to repair the vanishing cabinet. Some corners had thick comfortable cushions that had obviously been used for sitting among other things. A bit further a dusty settees stood before a small ornate table. Every corner was cozier than the next while remaining ambiguous in their use.

Looking around the room she smiled a bit as she slowly let go of his hand and moved over to that ornate table to put her bag down to relax a little bit. She had almost spent more time in this room this year than she had in fifth year. Those cushions looked like the ones they’d used for the stunning charms though and she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. 

“I keep spending more and more time in this room,” she mused. 

Draco set his bag down beside hers. “Is that a bad thing?”

Hermione thought about that before shaking her head. “No. Not really. Just hadn’t expected it after fifth year…”

Just thinking of their fifth year was enough to have him suppress a shiver. Not that sixth had been better. He looked around. “I think we all considered being done here at some point or another.”

“My seventh year was always something I looked forward to. I didn’t think this year would be so...drastically different. But I suppose that was naive of me,” she sighed as she glanced around. There didn’t seem to be any students here but they could easily use the space to try and relax. 

He understood it. Even if he tried to tell himself otherwise, he knew comfort, or at the very least a desire for it, that had brought him back within the castle walls. Compared to the outside world it was safe. Or at least, safer.

“Isn’t that what you fought for?” He asked. For things to be different. She’d succeeded. 

Slowly, his fingers brushed against her, almost accidentally at first, and then more deliberate in nature.

Those light touches had her turn her head to look at him and she smiled just a little bit. “I think we both deserve a break,” she mused her fingers brushing against his side. 

Draco nodded, slowly drawing her in. “I suppose we do,” he agreed, studying her features, making sure he wasn’t reading something into it that wasn’t there.

Stepping in closer at his guidance, she brushed a kiss to his jaw gently. Ever since their library date she had been balancing between wanting him to touch her more and wanting to pump the breaks on the physical stuff. But each time they were alone together they were like magnets.

Tucked in the safety of the castle's room of requirements, Draco didn’t fight the deep attraction he felt as she drew closer. His lips pressed to hers, tongue sliding across them in a silent plea.

It was a plea she didn’t see a reason to deny him as she kissed him back. Her lips parted for him, her tongue easily answering his as she turned to press into him a bit more, her arms slowly wrapping around him. 

Grasping her hips he brought her flush against him, giving away his desire for her. There was a heat to his touch as his hand settled on the small of her back, the other slipping into her curls.

He was so warm. Her fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck while the other tightened around him. That pull to him was more than magnets, something she wasn't sure she’d want to ever fight again.

Between their meetings of lips and longing touches he led her to the cushion pile. The way from upright to laying atop them with her a blur he had no issue allowing to dissipate in the light of the heat he felt by her side.

She pulled him closer, keeping him against her body as they kissed. One hand trailed down his back while the other rested against the back of his neck. The soft cushions at her back had her sinking into them with him, her breath hitching slightly. 

Every breath was heavy as it crashed between their kisses. As he settled between her thighs, pressing himself to her with a desire he hadn’t indulged in since more time than he’d care to admit. His body demonstrating what he would do if given the chance. 

A muffled gasp left her as he settled between her legs and her body arched into him. Her hand at his hair clutched at him like she thought he might leave. The way he responded to her made her feel powerful, desired, and it kept her mind in a pleasant haze of desire. It had never been this way with the other guys she’d snogged. 

Her reactions only spurred him forward, they encouraged his hand to trail their way down and between them. His fingers finding their way beneath her skirt, brushing against the fabric that stood between them. All he wanted to do was move past it, to touch her, to have his fingers deep inside her where he wanted to sheath his length.

Hermione clutched at him, only breaking the kiss to get a deeper breath as she rested her forehead to his, her eyes closed. Blush filled her cheeks and as he brushed her through the fabric she squirmed with another hitch of her breathing. Everything he did sent sparks through her. 

With a bit of a smile, he kissed against the column of her neck. It wasn’t much longer that he broached the fabric to touch her. She was heated velvet, the finest silk against his digits.

“Oh,” she gasped, lightly biting her bottom lip. That desire kept building and she wanted...more.

That sound had him slip a second digit into her. Soon he’d risk undressing her some, perhaps push them further then they’d gone.

Another moan left her at that, her hips rolling into the touch eagerly. It felt like she was burning up. She was far too hot.

Draco nipped at the side of her throat. “Hermione,” he said, her name escaping his lips like a prayer.

The Gryffindor shivered and almost whimpered at the sound of her name on his lips. Trying not to roll her hips into each stroke of his fingers. 

His thumb pressed against her, teasing that pleasure pearl. Leaning forward he claimed her lips, mirroring his fingers with his tongue.

Her thoughts were scrambled as she moaned a bit louder before kissing him back. She arched into his hand a bit more. It took a few more moments before she was able to find her voice. 

“Oh God,” she moaned, gripping at his hair gently. 

With two words she had him pausing. As if doused with a water charm he pulled away to look at her. 

“Who’s God?” He asked, the unmistakable hint of jealousy in his tone.

The pull away had her almost whine till that question registered and she looked up at him. “What?” She couldn’t help that first before she took in a slow breath, her heart still hammering in her chest. Was she really going to have to give a religion lesson now of all times? He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t know though. 

Cheeks still flushed, she moved up onto her forearms slightly and focused. “God is...well...you remember studying ancient magics that tied in with the Greek and Norse pantheons right? God is...it’s another Muggle deity that is just called God and is centralized in the JudeoChristian belief system,” she explained and wouldn’t meet his eyes. Oh, this was awkward. 

Draco was quiet for a moment. He took a moment to mull over what she’d just said. “So either you were exclaiming to a deity or calling me a deity…” he realized this was something he could live with.

“Something like that, yeah,” she admitted and finally glanced up into those eyes. They were hard not to look into if she was honest. 

He reached to brush her hair aside, leaning forward to kiss along her cheekbone. His lips paused, hovering over her ear. “If you ever feel the need to get on your knees and worship me, I’m sure you’d succeed to make magical equivalences fall from my lips,” he purred, a glimmer of laughter through his words.

Those light kisses had her relaxing into him before his words made shivers roll down her spine and that heat remained in her cheeks. “You are a terrible influence,” she replied with a smile before nipping at his neck, nibbling down it slowly. The idea wasn’t a terrible one, if she caught his meaning. 

That nip had him pull back to look at her. Having half expected her to slap him, but he didn’t mind this more pleasant alternative.

“So I’ve been told,” he drawled.

“...I like it,” she admitted before kissing the corner of his mouth. 

He indulged in that brush of lips and smirked. “I’d appreciate the results of my influence.” He hadn’t meant to be crude. 

Even as she blushed, she smiled a bit more and kissed along his jaw. “...In Hogsmeade you will,” she replied with a bit more boldness than she felt here. But she was a lioness; being bold was part of that.

A time frame. He could deal with that. “I look forward to it,” he breathed, reaching back between them, allowing his fingers to resume their earlier endeavor.


	34. Detention

Detention. It was such a horrid thing. A state he had avoided time and time again, but Winger...he had pushed every button, and despite having had the class make use of curses so dark the law banned them, he, Draco Malfoy, was the one being punished for refusing. Not merely refusing but leaving the class entirely. A fate he shared with his partner, that had stormed out behind him.

Curses and grievances escaped his lips here and there as he made his way through the castle to take on his punishment. A Head Boy in detention, he doubted anyone would have seen that one coming.

Hermione hadn’t graced detention since first year, also with Draco but then it had also included Harry, Ron, and Neville. At least now she was certain they wouldn’t go to the forest. There were far too many things from the war that could be lurking there at night and no one wanted to brave that risk.

Tying back her hair from her face she tried not to sigh or look too disgruntled. They had left class. But she had to wonder if any other Head Boy and Head Girl had wound up in detention while they were actually in those positions. 

As he stood beside Hermione, he was quiet. Visions of McGonagall perched over her desk as she chided them playing in his mind. Still, they had found themselves in Professor Winger’s classroom to do as he would bid, a task yet to be specified.

Professor Winger wasn’t in the room yet but there seemed to be instructions on the board of the classroom for them. There was a table of different artifacts out on its surface, a long piece of parchment. They were supposed to make sure that all of the items were there and to neutralize those that they could considering they were the top of their class. She could almost sense the same level of disinterested disdain as she had from Snape in the instructions. 

Most of the table had items that made Draco shudder at their sight, though his control over himself had him calm on the surface. Despite it, there was a roil under his silver hues, a bob in his throat as he took a step forward.

“This should be fun.”

Sarcasm dripped off him. There was nothing about this that was even tempting beyond cursing their professor. 

“Oh, absolutely. Loads,” she grumbled as she looked at the table and then let out a slow sigh. “Might as well get to work I suppose.”

Visions of shoving some of these objects where the sun didn’t shine on Professor Winger played in the Slytherin’s mind. The only pleasant thought as he began through the list, Granger at his side. 

Nose biting teacups, silver contraptions that seemed like they could ensnare them if they got too close, small statues who’s eyes seemed to follow them. He recognized a few pieces, just as he had recognized that box that had once housed his favorite quill. Some were heirlooms taken from his family home, others had belonged to relatives, trinkets he had heard of, others he daren’t express recognition of.

Hermione was familiar with a few Black family heirlooms that Sirius had told them about when they were in Grimmauld place. Those were catalogued and actually neutralized rather swiftly by the brunette as she shook her head. Some of these things were a nuisance, but only so dark while others...others she had heard rumors of but didn’t dare to think were there. 

When her fingers drew closer to a necklace his aunt once owned, he gripped her wrist. “Don’t.”

That grip had her pause and she glanced back at him. “Don’t?”

“It’s…” he tried to find the words. “It was my aunts,” he breathed, settling the item down and away, almost fearful that it would sense the brunette at his side and latch onto her.

“Ah,” she sounded and felt a little chilled to the bone at the thought of something of Bellatrix Lestrange’s being so close to her again. Clearly their professor had to have known as well. Trying not to shiver she glanced at it again. 

“What does it do?”

Draco didn’t let go of her. Not even when her hand was a safe distance away. He eyed the necklace. “Mostly? It’s an obnoxious display of wealth.” He turned to look at her. “But like most Black pieces, it tends to not be so kind towards muggleborns. If I have to guess...probably pain or make the imperius curse seem like nothing.” His voice was low, as if whispering it would make it less awful.

Despite her best efforts not to shudder, she did as she leaned in against him and closed her eyes. That woman was horrid. The only two members of her family she had ever liked were Sirius and now Draco. Hermione stayed close to him, seeming like he needed her close to make sure he knew she was safe. 

Drawing her in was easy, and feeling her against him, it sated some deep sensation he hadn’t realized he’d been harboring. “I’ll take care of that one,” he promised. Not that he didn’t think she was capable, but if only to not have to deal with repercussions.

“If you’re sure,” she answered and paused before brushing the gentlest of kisses against his cheek and hesitantly pulling away to start looking at the other artifacts that were there. Though part of her wanted a better look at that necklace. 

He nodded in agreement. As she started ahead, he pointed his wand and spoke a few incantations. The necklace lifted in the air. His father had taught him well, as had his mother. Beyond them, he had read, and practiced on various heirlooms. This one was persistent, it’s whispers heard through the air around them until it finally became still and quiet.

Those whispers actually made her shudder before she moved to work on one of the nose biting teacups, shaking her head. “Your family’s artifacts are always….colorful,” she offered instead of saying what she meant. Utterly terrifying. 

“You realize the Blacks were very spread in their matches and you’ll find most of your common room in part related to them,” he said perking a brow. Malfoys were dark certainly, but not the same way the Blacks had been.

“I’m aware. But not many had close ties to the family. I’ve seen the family tree that Sirius’s mother kept,” she explained as she contained the biting teacups with a wordless spell and a flick of her wand. 

Draco had seen it too, and the names that remained and hadn’t been burnt off. Names they both knew. 

“Doesn’t mean they don’t have any heirlooms lingering about. Not all families are like the Weasleys.” It wasn’t so much a judgment as it was a statement. Silence had enabled the last year to come about. 

A sigh left her lips. “That’s fair I suppose. But how hard would it be to make such heirlooms safe in a manner that wasn’t so…” she trailed off, looking for the right word to use here. 

“Mostly destruction,” he shrugged. 

“Thank you,” she replied simply at the supply of the words but she shook her head. It made her feel so out of place. 

He looked her over. “For what?” he asked, blinking, unsure he deserved thanks.

“Supplying a word. It’s appreciated...and refreshing not to be left with silence,” she almost chuckled as she glanced over at him. 

“I meant that was the only way to disable them,” he murmured. “But I suppose they cause it as well,” he mused. Seemed fair to destroy them. It wasn’t like his family needed them to be considered beyond rich. “I’ll make sure any jewelry I get you isn’t cursed,” he smirked, hoping to lighten the mood.

That made her blush a light shade of red at that and she lifted a brow. “Planning on getting me jewelry?” She made it sound teasing but her heart hammered in her chest. It was unexpected. Especially with the secrecy of their situation. 

He drew her closer, slipping his fingers through hers. “I already have,” he reminded gently.

“For the party, yes,” she answered, blushing a bit more as her fingers laced with his. “You’re planning on more?” She asked quietly. Oh, she wouldn’t forget about his gifts. They were lovely. 

“Would that be a problem?” He asked quietly.

He was planning on it. That thought had her heart hammer a little bit but she glanced down at their hands and shook her head. “It’s not. I’m...not one for much jewelry. But I won’t object at all.”

It was good to know. Every piece of information would better hone his choices when he did gift her. 

“Good to know,” he said with a look over her. “We should finish this so we can get back.”

“Agreed...how did he even get so many items if we weren’t going to study them in class?” She questioned as she moved to actually take care of the cursed items again. 

Draco shrugged. “My guess is he brought work with him."

Hermione sighed but she was marking things off of the list that they had of the different objects that they were cataloguing. 

“Lazy git,” he gritted, going through a few more items. 

A slight laugh left her at that, one she tried to stifle. That was not something she needed to do right now. But she agreed with him. 

“We’re almost done. Then we can go back to our tower…”

That was the only thing that kept him invested. Kept him continuing the grueling work. One item at a time until they made it to the end of the table. By then he was tired. His skin buzzing with exhaustion.

The end of the table had a few more slightly more..complicated items that Hermione was analyzing without touching for a moment. Some of the curses could be activated by touch and she didn’t want to risk it. 

“We can probably work together on those, hopefully get over it faster,” he offered, wand poised to begin.

Hermione smiled a little bit more and gave a nod of her head as she poised her wand as well. “We make a rather efficient team,” she agreed easily. 

With a nod he began, lifting the piece into the air so they could join their efforts.

Silent magic was something they were both skilled at, and while it took more effort, she despelled certain minor spells on the cursed items before she did revealing magic to show any deeper enchantments on them. 

He worked with her, keeping things at bay as she worked, and vice versa. Soon enough, the item was stripped of its protections, leaving it ready to be disarmed.

Their spell work was careful and meticulous, not allowing the dark spells on them to reach either of them. Feeling the darkness in the items almost made her shudder, but it wasn’t on the same level as a horcrux. 

Nothing on the table even made him flinch. He’d worked on too many items of the like, tinkered with things that had left scars. Alongside her he delved deeper, holding that item strong with the magic, making it yield so she could come at it with her own charms.

There was a curse that was based off of the cruciatus curse clinging to the item and she was able to unravel it with a bit more work. At least this proved that they were able to handle the Unforgivables, as if it was in doubt with all they had been through. 

It was a while longer before the item seemed to grow limp in the air. At which point, Draco lowered it back onto the table. “One more,” he sighed. A last item and they were free to go, and thankfully without seeing the professor in question that had given them the task.

She looked around the room, actually confused that the professor actually hadn’t shown himself yet for their detention. 

Onto the next item they got, and after a good twenty minutes of fighting it, and dealing with the visions it brought forth, it too found its place on the table again. Quiet. Disabled. After they were done he looked around and sighed, risking to brush his fingers to hers.

“We did it,” he smirked.

As she glanced over the table she let her fingers tangle with his and squeezed his hand. “Did you doubt our ability, Malfoy?” She teased as she glanced over at him with a more natural smile, not the half smiles or distant looks she normally gave outside of the safety of their tower. 

“Me? No.” 

It was honest, between the both of them he knew they were capable. Still, he took a moment to bask in the achievement.

“It was faster than I expected, but I knew we could do it,” she explained as she glanced back to the table. They’d managed without instruction or guidance. If they didn’t graduate at the top of their class she’d be shocked. 

Growing a bit bolder, his fingers laced with hers. “You were magnificent,” he breathed. The way she’d handled herself, honestly, it had been a sight to behold.

A faint blush colored her cheeks as she glanced back at the Slytherin prince. “You were rather brilliant yourself…” she breathed. If he thought that was impressive, perhaps he should see her duel some time. 

“Oh was I?” he indulged in the praise, something she hadn’t offered him many times. 

“You know just how good with a wand you are. Clearly I haven’t paid you enough compliments though,” she half teased with a smile. 

With a soft motion he pulled her closer. “Not the only thing I’m good with,” he breathed against the shell of her ear.

A shiver rolled through her at that and she blushed a bit more deeply. “I had noticed you have quite a few…talents,” she agreed. 

It was hard to hold himself back. A hand snaking behind her back to pull her close. The tip of his nose nearly brushed against hers. “Quite a few,” he replied.

“Mhmm. Kissing is one of them,” she complimented as she stepped closer at his pulling her in. One hand stayed in his while the other wrapped around his neck, fingers brushing the back of it gently.

He inched closer, bringing his lips towards hers. “You hold your own quite well,” he fluttered a kiss against her, tentative, light, as gentle as a butterfly wing.

The gossamer kiss was not enough for her at that moment. It was sweet, always gentle with her when he seemed uncertain, but she kissed him back with a bit more presence. 

At the feel of her lips he couldn’t deny her. He kissed her, deeply, his tongue running along her lip, beckoning for entry.

Hermione couldn’t deny him, didn’t want to deny him. She kissed him back just as deeply, her lips parting for him so her tongue could meet his, so she could taste him. 

As they kissed, their bodies naturally inclined into one another, they were interrupted by a rustle of feathers and a clap of hands.

The sound nearly made her jump as she broke the kiss with Draco, her cheeks blazing a deeper shade of red as she glanced over at the source. 

Draco nearly hissed, pulling away to look at the intruder. 

“Color me impressed,” Talbott Winger said in greeting. 

Hermione blushed a bit more, letting down her hair so it could half cover her face as she cleared her throat. “Good evening, Professor Winger.”

“Miss Granger,” he nodded his head. “Mr Malfoy,” he looked between the both of them. “Dare I ask if your storming out of my class should have warranted more than a single detention?” 

There was no pink in Draco’s cheeks though he felt anger coursing through his veins. The tenderness gone from his features, instead bringing forth the cold detachment he had been trained for. 

Unlike Draco, Hermione was blushing quite a bit but she held her ground. “I beg your pardon, Professor Winger?” Even though her features were flushed, her voice was an almost deadly calm and cool. 

“I was checking on my peer, my classmate, and Head Boy after _you_ had us all practice Unforgiveables on each other. That was something many had to experience last year and some of us experienced in our fourth year. If you think we skipped class just so we could snog you vastly underestimate our character and drives to succeed in this school,” she explained, her hands tucking into the pockets of her robes as she stood tall and firm. 

Each of her words was respectfully, if coldly and distantly, said. Nothing she said was a direct insult to the professor and she was careful not to get out of hand. The last thing they needed was more detention. 

“Her character you definitely misjudge, but mine?” He let a wicked closed smile to contort on his lips. “If it’s a story you’re after, I’m certain a few of yours can resurface,” he promised cooly. “Though none that would sate what you’ve always wanted to know…” he was shaking with anger, keeping all of it together. “Goodnight Mr Winger,” he forced through, before walking away. Walking away before he could push further. Winger. He knew the name. Knew his parents had discussed his family. What had been done. 

At that wicked smile from Draco she glanced between the two with a bit of a frown before she glanced at the professor. “All of the artifacts are safe. Goodnight, sir,” she stated with that same cold distance before she strode passed him and after Draco once again. Curiosity buzzed through her inquisitive mind. 

It was two corridors and three staircases before the Slytherin finally slowed his pace. A hand ran through his silver locks, and back down his face as he took a breath. He wanted to curse something, but reigned that desire in.

Hermione caught up after a few moments, barely catching him before the landing changed again thanks to the ever moving staircases. A sigh left her lips and she ruffled her hair. “Well...that was something.”

“That we disabled baubles?” he jeered.

She cut her eyes over to him and actually raised a brow. “You really going to be like that with me?”

It took a moment for him to huff away his aggravation. It wasn’t at her, but it wasn’t like he was used to being confronted so quickly after having to steel himself. 

“Give me time,” he asked, a bit gentler.

“That I can give you,” she agreed and lightly patted his arm before she continued up the stairs to the next landing so she could get to their tower.


	35. Friends

Time was a luxury Draco hadn’t been given many times in his life. Not when his grandmother had passed, nor when he’d been branded by the Dark Lord, and yet, after his outburst, Hermione had given him that. She’d granted him that solitude he’d needed, and though they had spoken since, and laughed, and enjoyed the other’s company, he’d wanted to thank her.

Although Madam Rosmerta wasn’t pleased to see him in her establishment in the slightest, she had reluctantly allowed him to get two rooms. One for himself, and one for Hermione. The latter was of course the best room, whereas the one he had put under his name had left little to be desired. It didn’t bother him though, and he’d graciously accepted the slight. If anyone knew what he’d been up to, they might not have believed their eyes. Except perhaps a number of professors that either wished for the pair, or had seen enough to keep a raised brow of apprehension.

Once their small trunks for the night in place, he had gone down to get them a table. There was no need to be cooped up as soft flurries of snow began to build. The chill of autumn ceding to the frost of winter. Down the street, students marched as they began their Christmas shopping. Anything to avoid the impending exams that would await them before winter break. Chatter of a Yule Ball floating around, as if the school needed another celebration of the likes.

Still, he sat, a pint of Butterbeer before him, waiting for his partner. Even in his mind he feared to call her his girlfriend. As though it could be plucked from his thoughts and used against him.

Hermione had been a little flustered at the prospect of spending time with him away from the tower, getting a little getaway that wasn’t their quarters. It wasn’t grand, she knew, but it made butterflies flutter in her stomach and make her feel lighter on her feet. She’d allowed him to take her trunk, since he was setting something up, and she had stayed behind to get ready. 

A few of the older students had been allowed to go to the village ahead of the trip tomorrow, and they were two of them. Head Boy and Head Girl clearly had the responsibility after all, though if she didn’t know any better she could have sworn she caught looks from a few of the other professors. 

Finally making it to the Three Broomsticks, she stepped inside and kept his scarf around her neck. She went to the bar and ordered herself a butterbeer, smiling at Rosmerta and making a bit of small talk before she saw Draco at his table. A faint blush was in her cheeks and as she bid Rosmerta a brief farewell, she smiled a bit more. 

“This seat taken?” She jokingly asked with a smile.

“It is,” he began and his features softened at the sight of her. “Luckily for you, it’s yours,” he offered, noticing his scarf around her neck. 

He’d wondered where it had gone, but now that he saw it, he couldn’t think of a better place for it, except perhaps the floor with the rest of their clothing. He swallowed down and cast the images away.

“Lucky for me indeed,” she laughed as she took the seat across from him and sipped at her butterbeer. Her hair was down around her face, more waves than straight at the moment. She was actually in date-like clothing. 

“Everything going smoothly so far?”

Draco nodded. “As smoothly as it can go,” he responded. “I didn’t get kicked out of the broomsticks, so that’s already a huge step forward,” he offered the faintest smirk. The slightest hint of guilt in his gaze.

Reaching across the table to take his hand, she laced their fingers together with a small smile. “It is. You’re doing fine,” she reassured him as well. 

His gaze fell to their entwined hands, enjoying the sight for a moment. It did nothing to ease his growing guilt, especially as he felt relieved that they were hard to spot from a distance. Away from other patrons, and tucked in a corner all their own. 

Her thumb lightly stroked back and forth over the back of his hand. There was something in that expression, but she wasn’t going to pry. He had far too many people prying into his head before and she did not want to be on that list of people. But she could ask a little bit, couldn’t she?

“Sickle for your thoughts?” His thoughts were honestly worth a galleon but she wanted to be able to negotiate up or down. 

“A thought for a thought?” he countered. He didn’t want her money. Didn’t need it.

“Deal. Though I’m not thinking about too much….just happy to spend time with you outside of the castle,” she admitted with a faint blush in her cheeks. Secretly dating wasn’t exactly something she was used to. 

“I was thinking I’m selfish,” he admitted quietly. “Though I appreciate the candor.”

“Why do you think you’re being selfish?” There was a note of concern there, but she lightly squeezed his hand. If he didn’t want to open up, he wouldn’t have to. 

He squeezed her hand. “Because you deserve more than this.”

That made a softer expression fill her face and she shook her head. “I agreed to this. It wasn’t like you forced me into secrecy.” 

Of course he knew that, but it was a debate for another time. In that moment, they had a whole evening ahead, and this was just the beginning. “You hungry?” he asked instead, shifting the conversation into safer territory.

“Absolutely. As much as I love food from the castle, the chance for something else is welcome,” she chuckled, knowing that he was changing the subject but allowing it without harping on it for now. 

He ignored the grumble in his own stomach, glad the crackle of the fire was enough to mask such things. “Good, my treat,” he smirked. This was a date after all, and he had every intention of treating her properly, even if it was still a secret.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile a bit more. “You’re going to insist, aren’t you?” She half teased as she took a sip of her butterbeer, but she wasn’t going to complain. 

“Are you going to resist?”

“Mmm, maybe next time,” she teased. 

A bit of relief washed over him that at least she wouldn’t fight him that night. He could deal with it another time. Definitely, though he doubted he could let her pay. It seemed like the least he could do. Instead he looked at the menu, trying to find what best to keep his mouth busy with.

Hermione glanced over the menu herself, she’d often just gotten drinks here rather than food when she was here last in sixth year. Sixth year felt like a lifetime ago now. 

When he’d set his sights on a meat pie, he set the menu down. “I uh, never apologized for snapping at you, after detention,” he said gently. “Hopefully, soon, I can explain some of that,” he offered. He’d given her some sense, a bit here and there, but it was still hard to acknowledge certain things. Especially when it came to his family.

“It’s alright,” she murmured as she glanced up at him with a small smile. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to,” she stated simply. If he didn’t think she needed to know...she could accept that. Even if she wanted to know. 

“I want to,” he nearly surprised himself. Discussing anything from the war and everything that had led up to it had been hard, but if anyone could handle it and understand some of it, he felt it would be the witch before him. “I want tonight to be special though, not weighed by the past,” he let his fingers brush hers over the table.

She reached out and let her fingers brush his with a look of understanding. “Whenever you’re ready, Draco. And not tonight then. Tonight will just be for us,” she promised. 

A smile began curving his lips at that, allowing his fingers to tangle with hers on the table. 

Each of those smiles was something she was proud of. How often had she seen him smile naturally because of something good? More often lately, but before?

“I like that...just us,” he mused, a warmth in his silver stare as he looked her over.

“Just us, outside of the tower, no responsibilities till tomorrow,” she agreed, nearly melting under that warmth. 

Though he’d done preparations for that night, he felt like he hadn’t done enough. This was their first time outside the tower, just the two of them, and this was all he’d managed? As if fate itself had decided to add its own twist on the moment, the doors to the pub opened again. A figure causing the talking heads to sound almost chipper.

So focused on his thoughts and the young woman before him, Draco hadn’t realized the presence of the chosen one making his way in from the flurry building outside the building.

The chatter was getting louder then. Rosemerta had been on her way to their table, eyeing Draco slightly, before she paused and saw who had come into her pub. “Oh! Harry, it’s good to see you dear,” she called over to him and held her finger up to indicate a moment to the pair before she wandered back to the bar to greet Harry. 

Hermione froze and glanced in the direction of the door. “...Bloody hell. You couldn’t come for my birthday but you choose to come _now?!_ ” she questioned under her breath. 

Draco pretended not to hear, but he understood. “Go,” he encouraged. “I’ll be here when you’re done,” he promised. They were her friends, even if he hated the Weasel and tolerated Potter, he knew she had been disappointed not to see them last visit.

She paused for just a moment before she got up from the table and leaned in quickly to brush a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back soon, promise,” she replied before she wove through the crowd to get to her friend. 

“Harry James Potter why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Hogsmeade?” She accused, trying to look cross but as soon as Harry smiled at her she couldn’t help but laugh as they hugged. 

It wasn’t often that he heard his name in such a tone, and as he turned to face it, he beamed. “We were hoping to surprise you, though it was all last minute. Weren’t even sure we’d make it tonight...” 

Ron wasn’t too far behind. He’d claimed he needed to make a stop at Honeyduke’s before meeting with him.

She laughed and hugged him tightly. “It’s good to see you! Though how did you know I’d be here? Or are you encouraging one particular ginger witch to sneak out,” she chastised slightly.

Harry hugged her back, keeping her a few seconds longer like Mrs Weasley had taught him. “I am meeting Ginny,” he smirked. “Later,” he added. He’d have to send her an owl and hope that she would make it, but he didn’t doubt her capabilities. “Seeing you here ahead of time is an added bonus.” He grinned. He hadn’t expected it, but things had a way of working out.  
“I thought you were. How could you? Encouraging rule breaking when one of your best mates is Head Girl,” she chided playfully as she stepped back. 

“You here alone?” He asked, looking around.

Fiddling with her hair actually as she glanced up at him. “Meeting a friend actually,” she said. How was she going to lie to Harry?

“A friend?” he asked, though whether he was reading into it or not he didn’t let on beyond adding. “A Slytherin friend?” he asked, motioning the scarf she wore. There was no judgment so much as curiosity.

A faint bit of blush started to fill her cheeks before she gave a nod of her head. “Yeah...a Slytherin friend,” she answered easily enough, almost forgetting about the scarf she had on. Maybe she should have left it with Draco. 

“Do I get to meet this friend?” He asked, a wider grin on his face.

The blush burned a bit more in her face. “Well….you might know this friend,” she hedged. 

“Oh do I now?” he tried to think of the Slytherins he knew that had made it back to the castle. “Is this friend treating you right?” he asked. It was all that really mattered in the end. At least he hoped so.

Her fingers teased at the ends of the scarf, tangling in the threads of silver and green that hung off the ends much like her own Gryffindor scarf. “He is. He’s been helping with the nightmares I have. It’s been...different. But I enjoy his company,” she explained as she glanced up at Harry. She knew he’d likely be able to figure it out...but she worried how Ron would behave. 

He wasn’t sure what to really say, especially about the sleeping bit. “So pretty serious then,” he thought out loud, glad Ron wasn’t around. He knew his mate wasn’t ready to see his ex girlfriend move on, even less with a Slytherin, and though he did his best to ignore that the only Slytherin he noted in the place was Draco Malfoy, he decided blissful ignorance was best.

“He helps me sort my thoughts in a way I couldn’t with Ron...I’m not sure about serious,” she explained, though the blush in her cheeks said more to it than her words did. “But he’s kind. More so than I would have expected.” She admitted, looking up at him with a slight smile. “Not disappointed in me are you?”

Harry wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest. “I could never be disappointed in you,” he promised, and he meant every word. She had been there for him that entire year on the run, there was nothing she could do that would change how he felt about her.

Hermione let out a soft sigh of relief and hugged him back again, closing her eyes with a small smile. “Thank you, Harry.” Letting go of him she stepped back and smiled up at him as she ran her fingers through her hair. “You think Ron will be more...relaxed about all of this?”

“All of what?” The ginger interjected with a bit of a smile as he pulled off his gloves and drew closer. “Didn’t know we’d see you here tonight Hermione. We were hoping to surprise you tomorrow!”

“Hermione’s just saying hi,” Harry said towards Ron. “But we’ll have dinner tomorrow, or lunch? Right?” he looked at the brunette.

“Absolutely, at least that. Maybe some shopping as well...I do need to make sure I can get you both something for Christmas after all,” she chuckled. 

Ron smiled a little bit, seeming pacified for a moment. “Oh! Speaking of Christmas, Mom said she hasn’t heard back from you. Are you coming to the Burrow?”

That actually made her pause, her fingers still playing with the threads of her scarf, it made her glad Ron was focusing on her face. “I think I’ll be staying at the castle this year.”

That was a topic Harry wasn’t wanting to have an all out war over. Not yet. “Because of your friend?” he supplied, careful not to give anything away, and yet, giving her some back up to it. He already knew that it would be a sore point for everyone, and he didn’t want to ruin their weekend. 

“Because of my friend...and because I’m still attempting to come up with how to get my parents back. So I’ll be doing research,” she supplied with a small smile to them both and a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I do hope that Mrs. Weasley understands.”

Ron glanced over at Harry with a slight frown before looking back at Hermione and catching the scarf, blinking a few times. “This friend a Slytherin, Hermione? A Slytherin that you have access to in order to steal their scarves?”

“Ron,” Harry nudged his friend. “Maybe they offered it to her, it is snowing, and it wasn’t supposed to,” he reminded gently. Training as an Auror had taught him to expand his view of things, to look beyond what was before him. “Come on, let’s get some rooms before they sell out, and then we can grab a pint before your sister joins us,” he grinned. He could take some heat off Hermione, though she’d totally owe him for it sometime.

Ron glanced between the two of them with a slight frown. “Considering how prepared she always is…” he trailed off and then wrinkled his nose slightly as he looked at Harry. “Why do you have to remind me that you’re spending the night with my sister?”

She tried not to laugh and glanced at Harry, mouthing the words “thank you” before she glanced at Ron with a shake of her head. “Perhaps because they’re dating, Ron,” she reminded with a bit of a grin. 

“I mean you do realize I’m coming over for Christmas, as your sister’s date right?” he grinned, giving Hermione a bit of a wink to say he had seen the thanks.

Ron groaned and shook his head. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbled as he shook his head before looking over at Hermione. “Sure you won’t help save me from them?”

“Absolutely not. Your problem,” she laughed softly with a shake of her head. “I’m sure Harry will show up if they do another Yule ball this year like they’re talking about. Then they’ll be my problem.”

He chuckled a bit more at that and actually smiled a little bit more at that. “Speaking of a potential Yule ball…” he started, seemingly building up for a moment. “You have a date for it?”

“I...pardon?” She blinked. That was a change. He couldn’t possibly mean to try and ask her, could he?

Harry rolled his eyes. “Three butterbeers,” he told a passing Rosemerta, anything to get a distraction. Hopefully she’d linger long enough to book a pair of rooms.

Rosemerta gave a smile to Harry and quickly went to fetch them the drinks, though it seemed like she was getting held up at the bar. 

The ginger just raised a brow. “Do you have a date for the Yule Ball, if they have one, at Hogwarts?”

“I...no? Not at the moment. Why?” She couldn’t help but ask. But after a moment she shook her head. “I don’t think it would be smart if we went on a date, Ronald.”

He frowned a bit more. “Because of this _friend_?” 

The time between his order and their arrival was stretching as his friends continued. “Ron,” he griped quietly, at the very least hoping to keep his friend on track.

Hermione frowned a little bit. “It shouldn’t matter what my reasoning is, Ron.”

“What do you mean it’s not my concern if you’re getting involved with a snake?”

She let out a slow breath. “What did we fight for if not to make it so that everyone could attempt to get along? So that we could grow and cooperate with each other?”

Rosmerta reappeared and passed them both butterbeers, but seeing Hermione’s back on her table she hadn’t brought another one for her. 

Harry took his pint and gave the barkeep a small smile before returning to his mates. “Guys, can’t we just have a pint, and,” he paused. It seemed they were missing one, which he was about to mention, but the woman was already off serving another table. 

Ron looked over at Harry, actually looking like he was a little flustered that Harry wasn’t helping him. “You’re really okay with all this? Considering there are only a few Slytherins she could possibly connect with in our year?”

“You’re making assumptions, Ronald. Who says my friend is our year?”

“Is he our year?” He asked pointedly, looking back to her with more irritation than she’d seen on his face before. 

One hand scrubbed down her face and as Rosmerta swung back by she ordered a small glass of fire whiskey before looking back at Ron. “Does it matter?”

Harry looked at Ron, and at Hermione. Once. Twice. His lips parted, as though to speak, but he had nothing. “I mean does it really matter?” he asked Ron. “She still looks like Hermione to me,” he pointed. It was lame, he knew it was, but this wasn’t somewhere he wanted to be. “Plus if you two don’t stop bickering, I guess I’ll just have to ask Ginny to come earlier…”

“Thank you, Harry,” she replied brightly, taking the fire whiskey as Rosemerta brought it over and took a slow sip of it. “Still can’t believe you’re getting Ginny to sneak out…” she paused then shook her head. “No, I believe it. Did you send her the map?”

The ginger tried not to puff up further and actually took a long swig from his pint of butterbeer, almost grimacing at the idea of his sister getting here that much earlier. Mentioning the map had him look back at Hermione again, seemingly considering something. 

“If I told you how I did the trick, it wouldn’t be a trick now would it?” Harry said, refusing to give away how he would help sneak away his girlfriend into Hogsmeade. “Glad to see you’re both delaying the inevitable,” he shrugged.

“Come now, Harry. You really think I’m going to bust Ginny on coming into Hogsmeade if she’s using the map?”

“Speaking of the map…” Ron started, sounding at least a little more calm at the moment. “...been spending a lot of time with Malfoy of all people...that his scarf?”

Hermione nearly choked on her firewhiskey, her cheeks heating up. Bloody hell. 

“Tact,” Harry muttered. Honestly, his friend had no tact. None whatsoever. “We should probably let you get back to your friend,” he said looking at Ron. “And we can discuss your time with the map,” he grumbled to Ron.

“Oi, you said we could check on our friends with the map, so don’t get upset that I did exactly what you said we could do,” Ron argued with Harry but looked at Hermione and then back again in a bit of disbelief. 

“Check in, not sound like a stalker,” Harry muttered, taking a deep drank of his butterbeer to avoid talking any more than that on the subject.

Finishing off her fire whiskey she put the glass on the bar top. “Thanks Harry,” she said as she gave him a look so filled with appreciation that she knew she’d have to get him something incredibly thoughtful for Christmas this year. 

As she turned to leave, Ron grabbed her arm to keep her from walking around. “Hermione…” he half pleaded, though he kept getting louder the longer this went on.

“Let her go,” he said gently, settling a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

In the distance, Pansy Parkinson had made her way to the table, keeping Draco from keeping a watchful eye on the situation developing between the Golden Trio. 

Their exchange was quiet, not drawing attention, but in the end, Draco had stood and left her at the table alone. He would rather risk Ron’s wrath than deal with his snake of an ex. 

Once he got to Hermione, he stood behind her, trying to figure out what to actually say. “Think you ended up taking my scarf again,” he said gently. His silver hues flickered to the two aurors in training. “Potter,” he nodded. “Weasel.”

Harry tried not to smile as he gave the blond a nod back. “Malfoy,” he greeted, though there wasn’t the usual venom to his tone. “Hermione was just going to meet you,” he looked to the brunette. “Though it looks like someone got cozy,” he said looking at Pansy still at the table. She was reaching into something, though from their location it was hard to tell.

Hermione had to try not to bristle as she shook Ron off of her arm. “You’re my friend Ron, but I will not be manhandled because you don’t like my decisions,” she almost hissed before she glanced at Draco, Harry’s words almost making her blush. “I did. Crookshanks seemed to have taken mine again,” she replied to Draco without acknowledging the smile Harry was hiding. 

A deep sigh left Ron as he tried not to twitch. “Again? You in the habit of taking his scarf a lot?” He asked Hermione before looking back at Malfoy with a sneer. 

“I do keep telling her I could just get another one, but she insists that cat will learn,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t so much an issue of his scarf as it was the feline. 

“Crookshanks is a very particular cat,” she argued, making it seem like this was a point of contention between them since they shared a common room now. Glancing back at Ron she shrugged. “I get cold and enjoy a scarf. If you’re concerned you could always tell your mother that I need another one for Christmas. She works wonders with her knitting.”

Harry had amusement in his eyes at the display, though nothing else gave him away. “Crookshanks being peculiar is the nicest way to put it,” he shook his head. “I’m sure Mrs Weasley will be happy to knit you a scarf, won’t she Ron?” 

Draco wasn’t quite sure how to react or respond. “He’s not a bad cat,” he found himself saying. Which was true. He had had moments with the orange ball of fluff and fury.

Ron let out a frustrated sigh but gave a nod of his head. “Yeah, I’ll tell Mum you want another scarf...I’m going to go book a room,” he grumbled as he turned away from the group and walked to where Rosemerta was behind the bar. 

A bit of tension eased out of the head girl’s shoulders as he walked away and she gave Harry a look. “I said particular not peculiar. You be nice to my cat,” she playfully bantered before she let out a soft sigh. “But….I think after we make plans for tomorrow I should go. I don’t particularly like being interrogated by Ron.” 

“Let’s say we meet at two, and have dinner,” he proposed. If only because he wanted to sleep in. 

Draco remained quiet, just taking in the scene. At least no wands had been drawn.

“Meet at two and lunch? I plan on staying in the village an extra evening and might want a bit of time to myself after sending the students back,” she countered. 

“Late lunch at two then,” he nodded. “We can shop afterwards.” 

“Sounds perfect,” she agreed then hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Harry.”

He held her close. “I do plan to grill you,” he warned. “Another time,” he smirked. Even he was curious about what Malfoy had pulled for it to be even a thing, but he also trusted his friend which left him a sort of Switzerland. 

Holding back a groan, she nodded her head as she stepped back. “I’ll be prepared...need to make sure Ron isn’t around,” she suggested before she glanced back at Draco with a small reassuring smile. 

“I think that can be arranged,” Harry nodded.

She relaxed a bit more and nodded. “Good. Try not to get Ginny into too much trouble, Harry.”

Draco did his best to ignore Potter, focused on Hermione, on her body language, the way she smiled at him. He extended a hand. “Might be best to eat upstairs,” he said when he managed to pull her away. “Before Pansy or Weasel get any ideas,” he fought not to roll his eyes.

Lacing her fingers with Dracos as they moved away from Harry she gave a nod of her head. “I’d rather not get accosted by our exes. Plus it’ll still afford us some privacy from any other interruptions.”

With a silent spell, he summoned his things from the table, not pausing as they made their way to the staircase that went up stairs.

She knew he had handled their things and that all it would take was a call down to Rosemerta to get dinner delivered to them, all she could really hope was that Ron wouldn’t throw a fit that she had simply disappeared. 

At the door, he plucked the key from his pocket, noticing the lack of the second, not that it mattered. He had all he needed right there. Leading her in, he showed her the room. It was slightly nicer than the usual Broomsticks room. He’d transfigured the sheets to a higher count, and tweaked a few things to be more comfortable.

With a flick of his wand, light orbs hovered overhead, giving the most beautiful glow, casting just the right amount of light and shadows.

A bit more of a smile curved her lips as she glanced over at him and then leaned in to kiss his cheek gently. “Should have known you’d have added your own touches to the room,” she almost chuckled, not complaining in the least. 

“I do have standards,” Draco said with a bit of a drawl, though mirth clear in his features.

Moving forward, he reached into his bag for a quill and parchment, starting to write down his order. “What were you in the mood for?” he asked, wanting to avoid speaking with the matron below if he could.

Holding back her own laugh she moved to take a seat next to the small table by the window, unwrapping his scarf from around her neck. “Shepherd’s pie is fine with me.”

He nodded and jotted it down in his neat handwriting. Every letter carefully crafted. “We can order a bottle of wine if you wanted."

“Wine, butterbeer, fire whiskey,” she listed with a slight smile. Dealing with Ron had her head throbbing. 

A few more scratches on the parchment would have a couple bottles sent up to the room. “You okay?” he asked, folding the piece of paper and blowing on it to set it fluttering like a small bird out of the room and to the kitchens.

Hermione smiled at the small enchantment as the note left, remembering when he’d done something similar their third year. The question had her sigh slightly though and she nodded. “I’m alright. Ron is just rather…”

“Yeah,” he chose to say. He had a few choice words in regards to the ginger, but held his tongue. “I could draw you a bath if you wanted to relax before our food arrives,” he said gently.

“If I get that relaxed now, all I’ll want to do is climb in bed,” she almost chuckled with a slight shake of her head, but she appreciated it. 

His lips curled in a bit of a smile. “I can’t say I’d be disappointed to have you in bed,” he responded cheekily.

Blush filled her cheeks as she chuckled and glanced over at him through her lashes. “Patience. You just might tonight,” she almost drawled the words even as her cheeks burned. 

At those words, he found himself speechless, streaks of pink across his cheeks. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. “So tomorrow you have lunch with your friends, does that mean I get dinner?” he asked.

The blush stayed warm in her cheeks as she looked at him and she tried not to let her own boldness startle her. “Absolutely. We can even enjoy the village a bit once everyone else goes back to the castle.”

“Two nights,” he echoed, obviously pleased with the offer. “I’ll make sure to extend our rooms then.”

A small smile curved her lips. “Glad you approve. And I’m sorry for the interruption downstairs.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he shrugged. “They’re your friends, and you didn’t know they were here,” he reminded her gently. It wasn’t like she’d planned some elaborate scheme to get away from him. If she had, it was an utter failure.

“Still...Ron is not going to respond to this well at all,” she sighed as she let herself relax some as they waited for their food, trying not to let it get to her too much as she focused on Draco. 

He watched her. “You have met my father haven’t you?” he asked. Honestly, Ronald could scream ‘til he was blue in the face, and Draco wasn’t likely to budge. His father on the other had, that was another story.

“Oh...you didn’t mind that I took your scarf though, did you?”

“Not at all,” he assured her. “Figured I’d give you an excuse.”

“Well….good. It’s not like I can steal it when we’re up in the castle….”

He drew closer and brushed his fingers to her hand gently tracing her warm skin. “There are other places you could,” he spoke in an undertone. The world was a big place after all. “I’ll get a better idea of my family after the holidays,” he added lamely.

Her fingers laced with his easily enough with a gentle smile. “There’s no rush, Draco. I know it’s a complicated situation,” she reasoned. 

A small smile tugged his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was happy to remain unnoticed to his own devices. Despite that, there was a part of him that wanted to exalt her, to hold her on his arm as he would any Pureblood witch he were to court. A struggle between his heart and his upbringing, a battle he had lost at Slughorn’s party, and one he knew he would repeat.

Before she could say anything, noticing that same warmth didn’t reach his eyes, there was a knock on the door. With how much he was taking care of her, she got up and went to open the door. There was a small trolley with their things on it that she brought into the room and shut the door.

With a wave of his wand the desk became more of a table for two, a quill and ink pot becoming a vase with a few elegant flower stems, the rectangular wood now round with a pristine tablecloth. With a snap and crack food settled on dinnerware as two chairs pulled out. Clearly the work of a house elf, though the creature wasn’t in sight.

Hermione couldn’t help but raise a brow at Draco at that, wondering if he had contacted or spoken with any elves in the employ of Rosmerta or if they were ones from his own household. Regardless of that, she took a seat at the table with a slight chuckle. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he purred, waiting for her to be seated before doing so.

That purr actually had her cheeks warm as she brushed her hair out of her face before she took a bite of food with a soft sigh. 

Though they were away from the castle, there was a sense of normalcy to be sat across from her while having a meal on a makeshift table. More often than not, they found themselves having a meal in their common room. At first it had been out of efficiency, what with their assignments and duties. As they continued to eat and talk, he realized it was more than that. He found himself smiling as she spoke, feeling that spark as they somehow made it through their two bottles of wine.

Slowly the night was unwinding, and it dawned on him that he hadn’t gotten everything he had wanted for the room.

“I’ll be right back,” he’d said, pressing a light kiss to her cheek before sauntering off.


	36. Entangled

While waiting she had adjusted her position on the bed time and time again. Shifting locks out of her face, propping her head, and then merely resting an arm against her side. Part of her had feared he wouldn’t be coming through that door, that Draco Malfoy would just leave her there to her own devices. At least, until the door opened, causing her to perk. 

“I was wondering when you’d come,” she purred, a flash of white teeth glistening in the semi darkness. “Don’t,” she warned, though her voice was soft. “I...I don’t want to talk,” she pleaded. “Just...can you just be here kissing me?” she patted the mattress, beckoning him forward.

That was all he really wanted to hear, it actually had his heart start to hammer in his chest as he smiled. He hadn’t imagined that she would have said something like that and he honestly couldn’t resist. Slipping out of his shoes and hanging up his jacket, he went ahead and moved towards the bed in the dimly illuminated room. 

He leaned forward, drawing her closer to him to claim her lips in a heated kiss. He had waited for this moment and it felt surreal. 

There was nearly a quake to her hand as she settled it on his cheek, meeting those lips as they brushed hers in a way she had never tasted before. A deep need that went beyond words. Her hands were on him, tugging at his shirt in a desire for skin to skin contact.

Rather than fight her too much on this, he quickly stripped out of his shirt, letting it fall where it would, and pulled her shirt off of her as well. His heart felt like it was going to hammer out of his chest at any moment. Once their shirts were off, he moved closer and captured her lips again as his fingers traced down her sides. 

Warm, he was so warm, and it made her arch so her chest would press to his. Her fingers lingered on his cheeks, down his neck and across his shoulders where her hands settled on for a moment. It wasn’t long that she was smoothing down his chest, feeling every strong muscle there as she silently praised them.

The silence was almost worrisome. Almost. He had started to get used to her silences but he was almost more used to hearing her speak. A ramble, an attempt to explain something, but this was nice. And he knew what would make it better. 

Moving onto the bed a bit more completely, he pulled her in closer, deepening the kiss with each passing moment as his hands started to more boldly explore her body. 

Motions she rewarded him with soft moans, legs spreading to accommodate him. Her tongue moved to meet his, tentative at first, as though fearful of overstepping.

That tentativeness made him brush his fingers through her hair gently, pulling her into his lap for the moment. He parted his lips for her easily, his tongue slowly meeting hers and building a bit more heat into the kiss. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. The last few times he had she had pulled away from him. 

Thighs squeezing against his hips, she grew more confident, grinding against him in a silent plea for what she wanted. As they continued to kiss, she reached for him, touched him over the fabric separating them.

A groan was her answer, his fingers brushing back through her hair and tightening there as hips arched into her, answering that grind with one of his own. Soon, but not yet. He didn’t plan on stripping her until they built this further. 

What he did do was break the kiss and trail those kisses down along her jaw and over her neck. They were quick but heated, wanting her to know just how much he did want her. 

Her head fell back to give him better access, more soft moans escaping her lips as they continued this silent dance. She could feel that warmth between her thighs, blossoming as she grew with need.

Each sound drove him further with her, starting to coast his hands down her sides and then along her thighs before moving back to the fastening of her trousers. 

Feeling his hands fiddling with the zip of her trousers, she stilled just long enough for him to succeed, moving away if only to strip down the lower half of her clothes and return to finding those warm lips that had her heart race and her breath dip. She felt flutters in her stomach.

He took advantage of the moment they were apart to unfasten his own trousers, leaving him in his pants for her as he pulled her back to him with a soft groan of desire. She was so soft, so warm...and he couldn’t stop touching her if he wanted to. It was a good thing he didn’t want to.

Kissing her again, his hands swept up her back and started to unfasten her bra as they kissed, not giving her too long away from him, not wanting either of them to second guess this turn of events. 

More sounds escaped her, glad at the swift return, at how he touched her. Her lips parted his, her fingers smoothing over his chest. Slowly she made her way to his undergarments, teasing along the band of it before slowly pushing it at. She wanted this, wanted him.

The boldness of her hands was surprising, it was something he ultimately relished and it made him moan. Part of him wanted to say something, but speaking seemed like a bad idea at the moment. It could make them overthink everything. 

Letting her work off the pants, he let them slip before dropping them off the bed before one hand traveled down her chest. His fingers brushed over her nipples, testing her reactions to the touch before he continued to draw his fingers down to tease along the edge of her knickers. 

Head falling back, her lips parted at the feel of those fingers. Arching into his touch, encouraging him to play with her breasts. Heat flushed her cheeks, her chest, it pooled between her thighs. Need driving her forward, she seized him, tentatively at first, almost afraid he’d swat her away despite how far they’d come.

Another moan left him as her hand wrapped around his length. He nipped at her bottom lip lightly before claiming her lips once again,his hand moving between her legs to tease her through her knickers rather than drawing them down. Each touch made him want to do more and more with her, and he was going to snap soon. 

She pulled him closer, pressing her hips up into him suggestively. Her body hummed with need as she traced herself with his tip. It resonated through their kiss. In her mind she begged him to take her, to do with her as he pleased.

The way she rubbed herself against him made him groan in frustration as he nipped at her neck gently. He was far too lost in sensation and desire to truly think about his actions. He laid her out on the bed and dragged her knickers down her legs, dropping them off the side of the bed as well. 

The last barrier between them gone, he traced the tip of his length along her folds slowly a few times before he slowly started to press inside of her as he claimed her lips again in a heated kiss. 

Her nails dug into his shoulders, gripping him as she let out a throaty moan. Though she wanted to cry for him, to exclaim how wonderful he felt, she could merely just sound her pleasure. 

He hadn’t anticipated that she would be vocal but he loved it. It made him almost groan once again. A grin curved his lips as he fully sheathed himself in the heat of her body. 

A sharp cry left her, pleasure in the notes that parted her lips as she adjusted to his girth. She smeared kisses against his jaw and down his neck, needing that proximity. 

Each time she made a noise, he nearly groaned as he slowly pulled out of her. One hand ghosted along her sides, his lips nipping at her neck, and he slowly thrust back into her with a moan. She felt better than he could have imagined. 

The brunette met every thrust, enjoying the slow decadent pace. That lack of rush making her body temperature rise as her heart continued to hammer. She had no idea this sort of tenderness could make her feel like she’d run across the school grounds to make it to class on time.

His thrusts didn’t increase in speed, but they slowly started to pick up in strength. Each thrust into her was a little bit more forceful than the last and gradually he started to pick up the pace. He nipped at her neck and groaned softly there. She had asked them not to talk, so he wouldn’t, even though he wanted to praise just how good she felt. 

What words could have conveyed, their bodies did in a way she hadn’t known possible. This was everything she found herself thinking. Every roll of hip meeting his thrusts was a claim she gladly accepted. His. She was his, and he was hers.

There was such a feeling of contentment and belonging that he didn’t dare question it. Not as he sped his thrusts and groaned against the skin of her neck before tilting her head to kiss along it more completely. One hand caressed down her side, teasing along to find what touches she liked most. 

Deep throaty moans escaped her as he filled her in that way, stretched in a manner that was most pleasurable. It kept building and building, and at the rate he was going, she knew she couldn’t hold on much longer.

Another groan left his lips as he tried to keep the pace steady, trying not to be more erratic as he felt himself building towards that end with her. His breathing was heavy, nearly pants at this point. 

As she felt herself draw closer she gripped him harder, her nails digging tiny crescent moons into his back and shoulders. She felt like she’d explode. Before long she felt it, that edge she blissfully fell off of. Her inner walls tightening around him as every muscle in her body seemed to tense. A few tears escaped the corners of her eyes she was barely able to swallow down. 

A louder moan left him as her nails dug into his flesh, his grip on her tightening on her waist. He squeezed her and continued to thrust through her climax before he felt that pleasure bubble over as he released inside of her. He slowed his thrusts, actually grinding in against her as he slowly came down. 

She arched into him, peppering him in kisses as she felt those twitches inside her. Furious, she should have been furious, but in that moment she was exhausted from it all. Instead she brought him closer as they slowed to a still, keeping him tangled in her limbs. He was so warm, and her eyes felt so heavy. It wouldn’t hurt to just rest her eyes a moment would it? She didn’t think so, buried in his shoulder, tucked in close.

He rolled them over and slowly drew out of her body, but kept her close. His fingers stroked through her hair slowly as he kept her close. She was warm and he couldn’t find the desire to move away from her. It would be fine, they would be fine.

And just like that, they fell asleep.


	37. Oh, Ronald, you didn't!

It had taken a little while for Draco to return, a bottle of bubbly in hand. He’d managed to get some chocolates in from Honeydukes, just in case she had a sweet tooth. After what she had let slip out earlier, he wanted everything to be perfect. Granted, he had hoped for such an outcome, and yet, somehow, he hadn’t actually thought it would happen. Not truly. Which was why his throat felt so dry as he knocked on the door to find his lover once more.

Though he had steadily brought her gifts, he didn’t want to that night. It went against all of his impulses, and yet, he feared it would cheapen things if they did end up going that way, and he didn’t want to do that. Not to her.

The knock was actually surprising and she couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips as she opened the door. She had taken off her jumper, left in a blouse underneath it. All of her things were put away and their finished plates were gone. 

“Well, I was beginning to think that the boys cornered you,” she half joked, though there was just a hint of worry there. 

“They must be busy,” he replied easily enough. “Didn’t see them, though Madame Rosmerta was kind enough to dig deep for this,” he flashed the bottle of bubbly. “Which gave me time to have Honeydukes supply these,” he concluded producing a striped green and pink box of chocolates and bonbons. 

A faint blush colored her cheeks, but she couldn’t help but smile a bit more. “I won’t turn down sweets from Honeydukes….or a glass of bubbly.”

“We can go back to our makeshift table or take them to bed, if we want more...comfort.” He was nervous, though he tried not to show it beyond his attempts to try and keep things casual. 

“Comfort would be preferable since we don’t have to worry about patrols this evening, or students out of bed...or school assignments,” she listed with a soft sigh of contentment as she moved to sit on the bed. 

Draco moved towards her, settling the box in her lap and the bottle on the nightstand. “No distractions,” he agreed gently. “No responsibilities,” he said, taking a seat beside her, a bit more at ease.

“No professors barging in,” she chuckled even as she blushed, leaning in against his side slightly for a moment, enjoying the proximity. Even as she opened the box of chocolate but rather than taking a bite herself, she offered him one first. 

Although unexpected, he offered a softened expression, before plucking an orange cream covered in dark chocolate. “Almost too good to be true,” he chuckled lightly.

Plucking a raspberry cream covered chocolate, she popped it in her mouth with a bit of a smile. Her expression softer as she nodded. “I think we’re in agreement there again.”

“That’s been happening a lot lately,” he trailed, his fingers inching to brush against hers. Slowly he leaned towards her.

Her fingers brushed against his, almost lacing their fingers together as she glanced up at him. “Who would have thought that would happen?” She mused aloud as her gaze was drawn back to his lips. 

His gaze flicked between her chocolate hues and his lips. “Not I,” he breathed, leaning in closer, lips hovering over hers.

“I’m glad that we do though,” she breathed before she closed the remaining distance between them to press her lips to his. 

Rather than bother with words he answered her lips. For a spell, he merely enjoyed how plump and warm they felt against his. Tentative kisses as to not rush her, yet filled with a deep desire for her.

Hermione didn’t build the kisses just yet, but she did put the box of chocolates off to the side. She scooted a bit closer as she let him guide them, her own kisses showing just how much she enjoyed each of his kisses. 

Slow, gentle, a pace much different from their breathless encounters stolen in school. They had time for once.

There was a slowly building heat, something she hadn’t gotten to feel with him before now. And she savored them. Slowly deepening the kiss a little bit, her free hand lightly brushed his cheek. 

A motion he mirrored, indulging in the silk feel of her cheek, the tautness of her throat. There was a shift in the bed as he drew closer, still keeping things in that tender pace as he closed the space between them.

It was so tempting to end up in his lap, but she simply pressed closer. Parting her lips for him, she lightly nipped at his bottom lip even as she blushed. Each continued touch had her heart rate starting to accelerate. 

That sharpness of her teeth had his breath deepen as he kissed her more firmly. His hand found its way to the small of her back to bring her closer.

Her heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest as she moved, actually straddling his lap as one arm wrapped around his neck. Keeping her lips on his, she let her tongue brush his in a slow and sensual kiss. 

He continued to deepen those kisses as he smoothed up and down her back, wrinkling her shirt as he did. Every brush brought the fabric up a little higher though he didn’t push her further. Not yet.

Breaking the kiss to get a deeper breath, she rested her forehead against his with a smile, her fingers lightly stroking along the back of his neck. 

“Too much?” he asked looking up at her, letting his hands linger on her hips.

“No...just needed a deeper breath,” she half laughed, blushing as she smiled at him. 

He nodded and licked over his lips. “Okay,” he took the moment to take a few breaths himself.

“It’s easy to just...feel with you,” she murmured as her fingers traced down his back and she claimed his lips again. 

That he could agree with. It was easy to fall prey to passion with her, to just give into the feeling of her being so close. Of how perfectly they were together like this. He kissed her back, deepening the exchange as he slowly eased her shirt up.

Her heart was hammering and she could feel goosebumps raise up on her skin as his hands eased up her shirt. She didn’t fight it in the least, her fingers trailing up and down his back as she held that kiss with him, nearly melting into it. Tonight was going to be perfect.

Draco tried to ignore his own heartbeat as it thumped in his ears. It was a struggle not to thrust up against her as he discarded the shirt, only to resume claiming her lips.

Left in her bra, she blushed a brighter shade of red. It was a lacy little thing that was golden and silver. She lifted off his shirt with one swift movement, tossing it aside before she kissed him back, pressing close to him. 

While she stripped him, he took a moment to let his gaze roam over her, taking a few seconds to take in the glimmering lace that hugged her breasts. He moved to cup her breasts, holding them with a gentleness few would account to the Slytherin. Leaning forward to press his lips to her cleft, he pulled away, his attention on the sounds piercing through the walls.

A shriek, a scream, a scuttle, and the blast of a door not too far down being blasted in anger.

Hermione startled and drew back, actually moving off of his lap as she looked over at the door. “What the bloody hell was that?” She couldn’t help but ask, the yelling getting louder, as was the scuffling.

“Not sure,” he reached for his wand. “Doesn’t sound good,” he grumbled.

“DRACO HYPERION MALFOY!”

The sound of her shout had Hermione pull her shirt back on as she tried not to curse. Of course that was what they had to deal with now. Brushing her fingers through her hair she was a rather bright shade of red. 

Pansy’s tone was unmistakable. _Bloody hell._ In a series of swift motions he took his stand in front of Hermione, keeping the lights dim as he allowed the door to open before she cursed it open. It would be easier to deal with her off her chosen war path of sorts.

“And YOU,” she could be heard to someone else. “You’re next.” The hiss was a promise.

“You were in MY room!” Ron replied back with another shout, still trying to get his wand back from the other brunette. 

Pansy ignored him, marching into the open door with her wand on Draco. “You lying, manipulative, snake!” She hissed, no sooner had the words left her lips her wand escaped her grasp, flying into the Slytherin Head Boy’s. What he hadn’t expected was the second length of wood escaping her sleeve to join hers.

“Says the one that tried to steal my room key,” he pointed out. Of course he had figured she would, especially that she had taken a hint for once. “So you crossed Weasel, honestly Pansy…” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t like they’d actually sleep together. They were both alive for starters.

“Honestly what?!” she started again, not having any of his crap.

Hermione glanced between Pansy and Ron and noticed that her best mate was far too red in the face and would hardly look at Pansy. 

“Oh Merlin’s beard,” she murmured with a note of shocked horror, her own grip on her wand not nearly as tight now as she glanced between the pair. 

Though the Slytherin didn’t look back at her, he looked over the pair again. The hair on Pansy was much more a giveaway than Ron’s normal scruffy look. “Oh,” his voice barely registered. It wasn’t often that Draco Malfoy was caught off guard, let alone make an expression that wasn’t schooled.

“That’s _all_ you’ve got?” she hissed, nostrils flaring as she slapped the blond.

Draco, much like the first time he’d been struck across the face, hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

“That’s a new low even for you,” she spat, ignoring the stinging in her hand, anger far too fulfilling to truly notice. 

“For me? I didn’t force you to sleep with a Weasel, you did that on your own.” 

Ron was rather red in the face and he looked over at Hermione, still shocked to see her in the room with Draco in the first place. 

Her fingers twitched, a strong desire to hit him again, but then that oaf of a redhead was being brought into it all.

“You were in on it weren’t you? And you,” he snapped, looking back over at Draco with even more of a glare. “You did force her into _my_ room, you bloody ferret!”

“I _beg_ your pardon? It’s not my fault that you **assumed** that it was me in your bed. Or had you wanted to sleep with Pansy?” She snapped back, glad that he didn’t have his wand. 

The ginger shook his head with an almost growl of frustration. “I...you….It wasn’t…”

“Be quiet Ronald,” she snapped before she shook her head. “Did you really think after I turned you down last night that I would end up in your bed? Honestly, Ronald, do you ever think about anything or could you not handle your Firewhiskey?”

If no one knew any better, it was like Ron had eaten one of those Honeydukes candies that made steam funnel out of your ears. He was trying to take in deep breaths so he didn’t scream. 

“And you,” Pansy finally turned on Ron. “You stupid, irresponsible, oaf,” she growled, remembering just what they had done, and how they had. Once again her hand rose, this time with an added force as she rushed towards him, putting in more strength than she had for her ex.

Draco had to fight not to laugh. “You really thought I would…” he said as it dawned on him. “Oh Pansy…”

Ron actually winced and stumbled back a step before he caught Pansy’s wrist. “I’m not the only irresponsible one here, Parkinson, so I’d stop with the bloody hitting.”

“Oh Ronald, you didn’t,” Hermione grimaced, earning a glare from her own ex. 

“Can we stop focusing on me and focus on the fact that your…...your whatever the bloody hell he is seemed to think that deflecting his ex _anywhere_ was better than actually telling her off?!” He nearly shouted.

The other brunette almost grimaced again herself as she shook her head. “Clearly he didn’t think either of you were going to sleep together, Ron….I doubt anyone in their wildest dreams would think that Parkinson would have….”

“I didn’t plan on it, I can’t help that every man here is obsessed with you to a point that they would use me to fulfill their fantasies,” she hissed before looking at Draco. “You should pray I don’t have tea with your mother when she asks.”

Draco clenched his jaw. “Talk to my mother and I promise you, you’ll be stricken off the registry faster than The Weasleys were.”

“You’ll pay for this,” she vowed to Draco. “Now give me my wand,” she outstretched her hand. She needed a shower, needed to regroup.

Draco felt a pang of guilt. He did bear some responsibility, but it was mostly doused in anger. “It’ll be delivered to you later, along with his. Now get out of my sight,” he drawled, and he watched her storm off. His attention turned to Ron. “You might want to follow her before she burns your room,” he said coolly. It was the nicer thing he could say to the redhead. 

Ron stared at Hermione for a few more moments, narrowing his eyes at her before he glanced at Draco and with a curse, turned on his heel and stormed after Parkinson. “Where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?! That’s still _my_ room, Parkinson!!”


	38. Compelling

Hermione sank back down to sit and just stared at the door with a bit of shock on her expression. What the hell was going on and oh dear Merlin what were they going to do now? She doubted that Pansy would keep anything to herself and Ron was likely going to keep raging himself for a while. A bang in the hall confirmed that, a sound like a fist against wood.

With a sigh Draco cursed the door shut. “You okay?” He asked, turning to face her, to take her in. 

Looking up at the Slytherin prince, she sighed as she carded a hand through her hair. “Mostly? This is a right mess we’ve gotten ourselves in with those two,” she muttered, attempting to sound light about it. 

“Pansy won’t breathe a word, if only for no one to mention her time with Ron,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to her while you meet your friends tomorrow,” he shrugged. There was no point in poking either of them in the heat of anger.

“That might be best. Leaving them alone for now is also the best idea,” she said with a sigh, a bit of tension clearly in her now. 

“If we’re lucky we’ll only have one to deal with come morning,” he half joked and sighed. 

A sigh left her lips and she nodded as she tried to relax a bit more. “Hopefully. My fingers are crossed,” she said simply. 

“I’ll get a bath started,” he offered, hoping to extend some small comfort.

“A bath sounds amazing,” she accepted happily, straightening where her shoes were in the room before she stripped back off her blouse and moved to her bag to get some of her toiletries. 

With a small nod of the head, he walked into the adjoining room to get the bath started. He flicked his wand to get everything ready. More golden orbs floating overhead, plush towels summoned to settle within reach. A few more waves of his wand had bubbles appearing over the surface of the tub. It wasn’t nearly as large as the schools or even the baths at the Manor, but if she wanted, they could both fit, not that he would press to join her.

Hermione got undressed in the main room, pulling on a robe that was as red as her Gryffindor scarf, and had a small bag of toiletries for herself. As she walked into the bathroom there was a faint pink blush to her cheeks. They’d seen each other mostly naked before, and shared a bath before even, but there would be very little room to hide if they did share this bath. Even so…

“Will you be joining me?” 

“Only if you want me to.”

His gaze was fixed on her. She was beautiful, perfectly wrapped like a gift. He swallowed down despite how dry his throat felt, his heart racing again.

Her fingers fiddled with the sash of her robe as she put down her bag near the tub and she glanced over at him. “I’d like it if you did,” she breathed.

Draco nodded. He hadn’t bothered putting back his shirt, which left a few items for him to rid himself of. Slowly, he began unlatching his belt.

As he started to undress, she untied the sash around her robe and hung it up on the back of the bathroom door. Left completely bare, she had her arm with the scar wrapped around her abdomen to hide it from view as she stepped into the tub. 

He kept his back to her as she stripped, taking the time to remove his own clothing and sending it off into the room and out of view. When done he turned to look at her. He wasn’t even conscious of how he guarded his marked arm, keeping it from view. 

She could feel his eyes on her and she glanced back up at Draco with pink in her cheeks as she sank down into the tub with a soft sigh. It was difficult to keep her gaze up on his face...and after a moment she found herself drinking him in and blushed more deeply because of it. 

Taking a step forward he remained in view of her. “Don’t drool,” he teased her gently.

She turned bright red and actually turned her head away, brushing her hair back lightly. “Didn’t mean to stare.”

“I don’t mind it,” he responded, taking a few more steps before pausing by the tub. “I can sit across from you or behind you, your choice.”

“Yeah?” She couldn’t help but ask before she looked up at him through her lashes and moved forward in the tub. “...Behind me…”

His heart was racing, his limbs tingling with anxiety, but he stepped into the space she created with an ease that didn’t show it. 

“Yeah,” his hands settled on her shoulders.

As he settled in, she leaned back in against him, between his legs, and let out a slow sigh as she let her eyes fall closed. 

He smoothed down her arms and wrapped his arms around her middle, his mark craftily hidden beneath a layer of bubbles. 

Her own mark was hidden under the water, not wanting to remind either of them of that time in the manor. But she relaxed with a soft sigh and a small smile. “Much better,” she admitted quietly. 

“Agreed,” he breathed, kissing along the side of her neck.

A shiver rolled through her at those kisses and she relaxed a bit further, tilting her head for him as her fingers idly traced over his arms around her. 

Every touch only drew him to touch her more. Risking along expanses of skin hidden beneath the surface as he peppered her shoulder with sweet kisses.

The warmth of his body and the water had her relaxing rather easily, even as heat slowly started to build inside of her as well. Her fingers trailed along his arms and then, after a few moments of hesitation, they brushed along his thigh beneath the water. 

A small smile crept on his lips at the touch, responding to it with one of his own along the inside of her thigh.

The light touch had her shiver and she smiled as she turned her head to press a kiss to his jaw lightly. Focusing back on him was easy enough to do, surprisingly. 

He easily shifted his head to give her access to him, continuing his soft touches against her, slowly drawing his attention towards her core.

Her breath almost hitched as his fingers continued to trail up her body. She brushed her lips along his jaw and down the side of his throat gently, nuzzling there as she blushed. Silently she hoped that the heat in the room would help cover some of the heat in her cheeks.

A soft moan of a sound escaped him at the feel of her lips. He touched her more thoroughly, tracing her folds with a single digit.

“You still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas,” he asked as he continued to tease her.

The light trace had her gasp softly against his neck before she bit down on her bottom lip. It took a few moments for her to clear her head enough to speak. 

“You haven’t told me either,” she deflected. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” he breathed, pressing against her clit, drawing slow circular motions.

It took a lot of self control not to lift her hips into his hand as she shivered, pressing in against his neck. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. “...More time with you,” she admitted honestly. 

She didn’t feel like she needed anything, not anything tangible anyway. After graduation she’d want to go hunting for her parents but she couldn’t think of a single frivolous thing she might want. 

“Are you asking for an invitation to my mother’s Yuletide party?” he chuckled against her skin. “I might consider it…wouldn’t say no to having you in my bed afterwards.” His tone was husky as he slipped a digit into her.

“Didn’t know she had one each year,” she replied, barely holding back a gasp. Her hips almost rolled into his touch. Her eyes almost fell closed as she took in a slow breath, going to try and continue the conversation as long as she could. 

His movements were calculated and deliberate. “Every year,” he purred. “Big deal in the wizarding community,” he chuckled. Of course it had been smaller in the last few years, but he knew his mother would try and make up for that. “I’m sure I could negotiate your stay with my family,” he offered. He felt emboldened, perhaps more so since Pansy had made her threat.

Hermione was trying not to shiver, trying not to make a sound as he teased and touched her. “You’d want me to be there?” The idea of being back in that house was almost terrifying, but the idea that he’d touch her more like this and keep her close was almost...soothing. It was a balm to that fear. 

Beneath his breast his heart was racing. Beyond arousal, there was a part of excitement. “At my side?” he asked. “Always.”

Kissing his jaw, she used one hand to tilt his face down to hers. “Be careful, promising always,” she breathed before her lips pressed to his. 

There weren’t many things that Draco Malfoy was sure about in life. What he did know was those lips against his, he never wanted to part from them. For years he’d pined, but now that he had her, he knew he’d fight to keep her. Rather than use words he merely deepened that kiss, timing tongue and digits as he explored her.

As she kissed him back, she moaned softly into his mouth. The battle of trying to keep her sounds to herself was lost as she pressed close to him and let her tongue tangle with his in that deeper kiss. She felt like she was melting under his attention. 

It was all the response he needed as he continued to kiss her. His finger slipping out to turn her towards him, needing more of that proximity. “Bed?” He barely managed the word. 

Shifting in the bath with him carefully, she nodded and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Bed,” she demanded quietly, feeling her heart hammering in her chest. 

Guiding her legs around him, he stood with her, carrying them out of the bath. A drying spell muttered under his breath as he brought her to the bed, carefully setting her down on it. She looked stunning, or so he couldn’t help but think as he drank in her appearance.

A surprised sound left her as he picked her up, a sound that turned into a soft laugh as her arms wrapped around his neck. All too soon she was sat on the bed and her breath almost caught in her throat as she looked up at him at how he looked at her, the light pink in her cheeks turning to a fiery red. 

With one hand he lifted her chin to kiss her, the other pulling a couple packets from the nightstand, keeping them close at hand.

“Get in bed…” his tone a mix of want and playful demand.

Returning the kiss, she couldn’t help a slightly cheeky smile. “So demanding,” she teased right back before she moved up on the bed, pulling back the covers and getting in. 

“Very,” he agreed, climbing in after her. He draped an arm around her to pull her closer so they could face each other. 

Letting him guide her in, she had to wonder if he could hear just how loud her heart was beating. Pushing that thought from her mind, her fingers traced through his hair before she kissed him again. 

A kiss he gladly returned. He roamed her body, lingering on planes and curves as his fingers made their way back to her core. This time two finding their place inside her.

Her breath hitched as she pressed closer, her fingers tightening in his hair as she shivered. Slowly, she trailed her other hand over his side and along his chest. Each touch was a liberty she took that she hadn’t much dared to before. 

Those tentative hands sent shivers down his spine. He’d often imagined how she’d feel, but nothing had prepared him for how lovely she truly was. She felt so warm around his fingers as he continued to tease her. It was hard not to press himself towards her hand, but he remained still, almost unnaturally so.

“We can stop at any moment,” he promised. It wasn’t the most romantic statement, but he needed to make sure this was something she wanted. “Anything you want,” he promised.

The fact he was leaving the decision up to her and wasn’t pressuring her was what did it, what made her trust him. Her hand slowly stroked down his chest, caressing over him as she blushed and slowly wrapped her hand around his length. 

“And...if I want you?” She managed, her breathing a little uneven as she looked up at him.

“Then you’ll have me,” he nipped along her jaw before pulling back to look at her. Merlin, she was stunning.

“Good,” she breathed on a shiver before she moaned softly at the feeling of his fingers filling her again. It spurred on her own feeling as her hand stroked over his length. 

He watched her a while longer as he teased her. Though she felt ready, he didn’t want to rush things. He’d give her the first time he never got, that he was certain.

As he watched her, she blushed a brighter shade of red but she let her gaze meet his as she lightly bit down on her bottom lip, holding back another moan. 

“You don’t have to be quiet,” he reminded gently, a bit of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Slight habit,” she gasped softly, trying not to squirm as she continued to stroke up and down his length with a bit more confidence than before.

He chuckled at that. “You’ll have ample opportunities to be quiet,” he promised under his breath, thumb pressing to the top of her folds. 

A moan she didn’t have the chance to try and suppress left her at that press, her hips arching into his hand slightly as she shivered. 

A flicker of pride glimmered in his silver stare at her reaction. One he worked to recreate over and over. His own length more than firm in her grasp. 

As he continued that she gasped and squirmed there under his attentive hand. Her hand lightly tightened on his length and she let go in case she hurt him. That was the last thing she wanted to do after all. 

“Draco,” she almost crooned his name. She wanted more of him. 

“Mmm?” He sounded in question, wanting to hear her say it. His spine still tingling from his name falling from her lips.

He had to know what she wanted, which meant she was going to have to say it if she wanted it though. Her cheeks were bright red and she rolled her hips into his hand. 

“...I want you. Please..” she breathed, a little self consciously but she managed. 

With a nod he slowly pulled his hand away from her to reach for the square packet he’d set out. It wasn’t long before he had its content snug around his length before teasing her with the tip of him. Slowly he traced her as he settled more comfortably. 

As he teased along her folds she shivered, shifting carefully so her legs spread open for him a bit more easily. Her hands trailed up his sides and along his shoulders as her heart hammered in her chest. 

Leaning forward he claimed her lips, tucking lengths of brown hair behind her ear with his free hand. He pulled back as he pressed against her, slowly inserting himself into her.

She kissed him back, one hand brushing up into those blond locks of his. A muffled gasp left her lips against his and she stayed still. There was a bit of pressure but it wasn’t unpleasant.

His silver hues scanned over her as he pressed on, filling her inch by inch. The effort as her warmth tightly enveloped him nearly had him shaking. 

Once he was fully inside of her, she shivered, her fingers lightly stroking along the back of his shoulders as one stayed in his hair. The pressure was easing and her lips brushed along his again, knowing he was trying to make sure he didn’t overwhelm her. 

It was hard not to lose himself in that kiss, not to succumb to the desire of his hips to drill her into that mattress and claim her like his own. It was a part of himself he fought to suppress. That pesky inner voice that constantly rang in his ears as loudly as his heartbeat. _Mine, mine, mine…_

Carefully, steadily he began a slow, tender pace. Easing her into it. It made his breath catch between their lips and his body to react as if he were zooming across the quidditch pitch making bold moves rather than the intimate encounter it was undergoing.

Another moan left her lips and at that slow pace she shivered. Each slow thrust into her had her adjusting to the feeling of him inside of her, filling her, and it made her breath hitch softly. Her fingers stroked through his hair, traced down his back, and she couldn’t focus on anything else but him. 

He felt better than she would have anticipated and it had her nearly tremble under him. 

Every touch she lingered on him was a tether to the moment. Keeping him steady as he continued to thrust into her. His lips smothered her cheek, neck, and shoulder in kisses. He wanted all of her, as if that were even possible to have more than he had. 

Tilting her head she made it easier for him to reach more of her, to feel more of her. That steady pace had her petting at him, touching him to ground herself with him. 

“You feel so good,” he praised her, his voice barely above a breath.

“So do you,” she nearly moaned the words, meeting his gaze even as she blushed. It felt good, but she knew, she didn’t know how but she could just _feel it,_ he was holding back. 

He held that chocolate stare a while, studying her as their bodies continued to meet.

Hermione lightly nipped at his bottom lip, but rather than claiming a kiss, she trailed kisses down his jaw and along the side of his neck before nipping there as well. 

Those nips had him moaning, enjoying that sharpness. It had him falter the slightest bit, sending his hips forward with a bit more strength, enough the bed gave a slight quake. 

A louder moan left her at that added strength, making her blush before she nuzzled into his neck and nibbled at the skin there again. “You’re being…so careful,” she breathed against his neck. 

“Would you rather I not be?” he asked. It wasn’t a judgement in the least.

“You don’t have to...you won’t hurt me,” she murmured against his neck before kissing him again with a bit more intensity. 

A bit of a groan muffled against her lips, his hips falling into a firmer pace. Still, he kept himself contained, not wanting to go too far. Not yet.

The harder pace had her moan into his lips and arch up into him. Her grip on his back tightened, her nails lightly digging into his back. 

He arched his back into her nails, stifling a hiss between kisses. With every thrust he found himself going a bit faster, a bit firmer. The posters of the bed knocking against the wall more steadily.

As he built up, she nearly trembled and moaned against his neck, almost in his ear, as she held him close. Her hips arched and rolled to meet his thrusting hips. He felt amazing and all of her focus was on him. Even the sound of the bed knocking against the wall was easily ignored. 

Draco’s teeth sunk into his lower lip as he felt that build up of pleasure inside of him. He tried to hold it back, to ensure he brought her over that blissful edge beforehand.

“Draco,” she moaned, a slight edge of something close to need in her voice. 

If he hadn’t pleasured her a few times in the castle, he might not have been so attuned to her cues. The way her voice got, or how she dug into his skin. “‘Mione,” he moaned right back, the m sound lingering on his lips.

The sound of her name on his lips had her smile a bit more and she nipped at his bottom lip, clutching at him. She just needed a little bit more, that pleasure built up to a fever pitch from his teasing and his body delving into hers over and over. 

Grinning he bit her back, grinding into her with every thrust. He just had to hold on a little longer. 

The look on his face, those grinds into her, she only lasted a few more thrusts. As she fell apart, her inner walls tightening around him, her nails dug into his back as she moaned, her head falling back into the pillows. 

That tightness around him along with her warmth had him spilling over. He slowed his motions and stilled into her. Panting he rested against her shoulder.

As he stilled, her fingers stroked through his hair and a smile curved her lips. That was better than she would have expected it to be and she felt fantastic. 

Lazily he kissed up her neck and across her jaw. His finger tracing her lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. With a sigh he finally pulled away, reaching for his wand to clean himself up and vanish the protective device that clung to his length.

Those kisses had her shiver and she smiled a bit more, though as he sucked her lip into his mouth she gasped softly. Waiting patiently until he had cleaned himself up, she pulled him in closer again and curled in against him, wanting that proximity, that closeness. 

His arm draped over her, pulling her into his chest. His lips lingering in her hair a moment. Gently he trailed fingers over her body, tracing her as if committing every last expanse of her skin to memory.

Relaxing into him as he pet over her body, she sighed softly and nuzzled in against his neck. “That was…” she searched for a word even as she blushed, her fingers stroking over his hair. 

“Very,” he agreed, tracing along her cheekbone. He shivered from how she pet his blond locks.

Blushing even more at that she smiled up at him. “Glad to hear the feeling is mutual,” she almost giggled, wishing the blush in her cheeks would die down. 

It was easy to smile with her, something he felt he hadn’t done in years. “Might have to do that again,” he whispered cheekily.

Biting down on her bottom lip lightly she kept his gaze, her fingers trailing from his hair to along his jaw. “...give me a minute or two...and I wouldn’t object…”

“Is that so?” he asked with a perked eyebrow, inching closer, nose brushing hers as he considered kissing her again.

“It is. But if you wouldn’t want to…” she trailed off, pulling away just a little bit like she might move to settle in bed. 

He rolled her over and nipped at her neck. “I do want to,” he promised. “Might need more than a minute.”

A soft laugh left her at that and she kissed his jaw lightly. “Do you see me going anywhere?”

“Not anymore,” he almost growled against her skin.

The near growl had a shiver roll down her spine and her breath almost hitched. Why did that sound so much better? “And what were you going to do to keep me here, hmm?”

It was dumb to ask, she knew he’d have an answer, but she was curious. Her curiosity always got her into trouble.

“A bit of this,” he kissed along her clavicle, smirking as he eased his way down and under the covers. “And this,” he wrapped his lips around her nipple, drawing a circle around it with his tongue.

A shiver rolled through her as she watched him move, though as soon as he moved beneath the covers and teased her breast she moaned. Her hand moved under the blankets, carding through his blond locks as her eyes fluttered closed. “Rather compelling.”

He kissed down her abdomen. “I can be very compelling,” he purred.

“I’ve noticed,” she smiled.


	39. The Enemy of my Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains Ronsy. You can skip it if it isn't your jam. We promise to post a Dramione chapter soon after <3

Pansy Parkinson didn’t slow as she made her way back to the room. Without her wand, she would have to find other ways to blow off some steam and after everything, she needed a shower to say the least. She couldn’t very well plot revenge looking the way she did. Oh and they would pay, but she needed to get through a few things first. 

Back inside his room, she felt like she should have known. Of course she hadn’t snooped, she’d been too busy trying her hardest not to fuck things up. He’d denied her so many times since the start of the year it had blinded her. 

“Great now we’re both wandless until those two shag it out,” she hissed, rubbing at her temples choosing to ignore his possessiveness of the room.

Ronald Weasley cringed at the very idea of Hermione and Draco shagging, slamming the door to his room closed behind him with a muttered curse. 

“You’re the one that went in wand already drawn, Parkinson. I thought you were supposed to be tactical or some shite,” he muttered, flexing his hands slightly. If there was something to punch he could but short of damaging the walls…

She looked at him. “Because I should be tactical for being sent to your room like a common whore?” she demanded. “Apparently I’ll have to be,” she dug her nails in her palm.

Ron just tried not to curse. “You know your ex better than I do, Parkinson, would what you did normally work?” It was a question he might not have asked before his training...because he would have done the exact same thing. 

“Threaten to talk to Narcissa?” she asked. “You do realize he’s more than my ex?” she stated simply. “And believe me, he will pay,” she swore.

“No, I can’t say I do realize any of what your two families get up to,” he grumbled as he stormed across the room to the bathroom before he paused and then groaned to himself and leaned back against the doorframe. 

It seemed like he was debating something for quite some time before he gestured into the bathroom. “You can have it first.”

“Wow such a gentleman,” she rolled her eyes, marching forward to not give him a chance to change his mind. She started the water manually, taking a few tries to get the right temperature. Obviously she wasn’t used to not using magic in such moments. “We’re betrothed,” she explained as she undressed with her back to him. “Come July, he’s pretty screwed, contracts and all, not everyone has the luxury of going with the flow.”

“Oi, and it’s lady-like to just let yourself into someone’s room? Yeah, you had a key, I get that, but still,” he shook his head as he moved out of the doorway and stayed in the main room rather than the bathroom. Though that was honestly...he cringed. 

“Betrothed? Bloody hell, makes me glad my family got blacklisted by other purebloods,” he rumbled but shook his head, glancing towards the door. He doubted that Hermione had any clue about that. 

She tried not to laugh, quickly stripping and jumping into the shower. Now she just wanted to poke at him. “I mean I should have known it wasn’t him, for one you didn’t tie me to the bed,” she drawled. “Wonder if Granger likes being choked,” she said, rinsing her hair.

Those comments had him actually tense and he stared back at the door, grinding his teeth slightly. It took all of his self control not to storm out of the room and across the hall. “...You really like talking, don’t you, Parkinson?”

“Not going to share then?” she called back. “Or perhaps you’re just cranky you didn’t think of it sooner…” she washed through her curls. Keeping him angry was doing wonders for her own aggravation. “Not like Lav Lav was very ...kinky?” 

A soft sound, almost like a growl, came from the Gryffindor as he shoved the table that was in the room and it toppled over. Small outburst aside he started to pace in the room. “Well, clearly you weren’t enough to keep your betrothed occupied, that must sting,” he shot back. 

That stung, and it made her glad that she was alone in the shower to make a face. “Clearly neither were you since she’s likely being bent over his bed as we speak,” she retorted, reaching for the soap to lather over herself.

He cringed and tried not to growl again. “Can’t say there was a claim of marriage on the table though, Parkinson. Guess seven years was all he could make himself handle,” he shot back. Two could play at this game, and she’d started it. 

“It’s not like either of us has a choice, though I suppose there are more males than females,” she shrugged. Not that the prospects were any better.

“If you aren’t in for the long haul why bother with her?” She asked. As much as she tried not to think of their time in bed, there had been something genuine he’d exposed.

He held back a curse. “We had just started dating, Parkinson. Then we broke up.” More accurately she dumped him but he wasn’t about to get into the details of this with a serpent. 

“If that’s what you tell yourself,” she scoffed, enjoying the hot water and closing her eyes. “She probably dumped you, for not paying attention…” 

“I pay attention, Parkinson,” he snapped back towards the bathroom door with a glare. He had to take in a slow breath and shook his head. “I’d been paying attention to Hermione Granger for a few years. And it seemed like she wanted what I wanted. Somewhere we lost being on the same page.”

“You slept with me thinking I was her, clearly you’re not paying attention,” she pointed out, turning her back to the door to take the spray face on. Heck admitting they weren’t on the same page was essentially admitting as much. 

“Firewhiskey, Parkinson. What’s your excuse for not realizing that I’m not him?” He jabbed. All he wanted was distance from her...but he was willing to bet there weren’t any other rooms now and the last thing he was gonna do was bunk with his best friend.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” she deflected. “Must have wanted it so bad to be her,” she poked at him. She knew it would land its mark because she was equally guilty. “Probably why you weren’t on the same page, all those wants with that capability to ignore what’s cross to them.”

“Yeah, that why you didn’t realize I wasn’t your blond haired git? Want him to give you the attention that he’s giving her?” He hated even mentioning it. He felt like he needed a whole other bottle of fire whiskey. 

“Is that so bad?” She asked though her voice didn’t quite carry. Was it so bad of her to want something more than...she swallowed down. No. She wasn’t going to self pity. 

“Honestly? Probably. You always seemed like a prideful bitch and he seems to knock that right out of you if that’s how much you wanted me to be him,” he replied, only with a bit of sharpness to his tone. 

“At least she’s probably having fun,” she grinned. “Oh yes Draco,” she mock moaned. “Fuck me like the Gryffindor slut I am.”

But his understanding was knocked right back out of him. 

“Shut up, Parkinson.”

“Mmmmm make me,” she teased, not believing for one second he would do anything. 

“Make you, huh?” He questioned slightly, though his voice was only irritated. Angry. 

“That’s what I thought,” she sang back. “She’s probably begging him to spank her,” she taunted.

As much as Ron would normally try to be a gentleman, he pushed back open the door to the bathroom and strode across to the shower. 

“Parkinson….shut the hell up before I make you walk down to Rosmerta in nothing but a towel to _hope_ you don’t have to walk back to the castle.”

“Do that and I’ll make sure your sister’s next to make the walk of shame,” she hissed. It was how she’d gotten out of the castle in the first place, tailing Ginny.

“You _really_ think Rosmerta wouldn’t cover for Ginny considering who she’s with? That Hermione wouldn’t? Shut up about her and Malfoy, Parkinson. You told me to make you shut up. Don’t tell me to if you aren’t prepared for how I would,” he growled. 

Grabbing the shower nozzle she pulled the curtain and sprayed him. Keeping it trained on him. “Fine, then I’ll keep my focus on you,” she warned. “What do you think happens when I get back to Hogwarts and ask Madam Pomfrey for a morning after potion after _you_ bring me back?” She demanded, letting the nozzle fall to grab her towel. “You’re stuck with me for the night,” she sniffed. “Believe me, it’s not ideal for me either.”

He actually let out a shout of surprise at being sprayed and wished he had his damn wand to deflect the water back. Since there had been no knock on the door, he doubted that Malfoy had delivered their wands back to them yet. 

“Fine, fine. Bloody hell...and I’ll cover the damn potion,” he gritted, moving out of her way to grab another towel for himself so he could go and shower. 

Wrapping herself she shrugged. “I rather get my own thank you, I’d hate for you to cheap out,” she said, grabbing her discarded clothes and sighing. She didn’t want to put back on something she’d worn, and not having her wand was starting to really grate her.

That actually made him glare over at her. “Oh yeah, because I’m poor I’d cheap out on something that’s important. Exactly,” he nearly hissed the words and actually gestured out of the bathroom. “Get out, Parkinson.”

“Please like I want to see you naked. Unlike you, I won’t even barge in,” she threw at him, slamming the door on her way out. With the lights now on, she looked around the room, with some luck she’d find a clean shirt, and a bottle of Firewhiskey.

“You told me to make you shut up, Parkinson, so you invited me in,” he almost growled at the slammed door before he turned back on the water in the shower. His bag was in the room but there wasn’t any more alcohol. He hadn’t brought it up to his room.

“And you failed, must be a really proud moment for you,” she shrugged. “Feel free to drown in there,” she said, helping herself to one of his shirts before moving to the desk. She made a request for a bottle, and two glasses. It was the least she could do, though he clearly didn’t deserve it. Much like in class, the parchment fluttered through the air and under the door to put in the request. One of the few wandless spells she could manage without having to speak.

Rather than rise to the bait, once again, he just stripped and got into the shower. He washed quickly, trying not to curse as he focused more on what he could do now. Now it was confirmed to him that his ex was with that serpent and he just felt like he was bubbling over with jealousy and hurt. This was worse than when he found out she was going to the Yule Ball with Krum.

It didn’t take him too long to finish washing off and when he grabbed a towel he tried not to curse as he shook his head. This was annoying and he had no idea what to do now. 

Pansy settled on the bed, wrapping herself in blankets, the bottle of Firewhiskey she’d ordered on the nightstand and a glass she filled for a second time before knocking the contents back and shaking her head as she pulled a face. The stiffer drinks rarely sat well with her, but she didn’t care, she needed to think and not think.

After Ron dried off, he came back into the main room and then almost sneered at her in his clothes, but it did make him pause. She was pretty, he could at least admit that much. But he focused back on getting dressed a moment later. 

Mindlessly she brushed her hair, at least her purse had held some small comforts, like beauty products and a spare set of knickers not that they’d cover anything. She could feel him meandering about, but chose to ignore him. No, she just needed a general idea of where he was while she plotted revenge.

Getting dressed in a pair of sleeping trousers and a night shirt, he grumbled to himself as he brushed his hair back out of his face. Once he was properly dressed he glanced over at her and almost groaned before he left the room. He was going to head downstairs to get a drink from Rosmerta. 

She looked towards the door and shrugged. With some luck he’d stay gone, not that that made her feel any better. Bad company was better than no company, not that she’d admit it.

It didn’t take Ron too long to come back with his own bottle of firewhiskey. Drinking his calories was one way to actually deal with all of this mess. But he wouldn’t admit to much more than that. Seeing that Pansy was still there, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and took a long pull from the bottle. 

“Manners,” she chided, reaching for the empty glass untouched on the nightstand and sliding it halfway between them. She didn’t linger, pouring herself another glass and pressing it to her chest for a moment.

“Do manners really matter at the moment?” He drawled with a lack of amusement even as he did take the glass and poured himself some of the whiskey before knocking it back and pouring another. “It’s not like you _really_ give a damn.”

She shifted her head to look at him point blank. “Perhaps I just like making you miserable, but lucky for you, the next person I want to make miserable, is someone you should also want to make miserable,” she continued, hoping she hadn’t lost him.

“Malfoy? Absolutely. After everything he’s done….” he trailed off and tried not to growl. The idea that Hermione could enjoy time with him at all made his blood boil. 

“Good,” she nodded. “The enemy of my enemy and all that,” she trailed, happily buzzed. “Question is, do you want Granger or has that carpet flown?”

He dared a glance at Pansy as he swirled the copper colored liquid in his glass and almost scowled. “What kind of mad question is that?”

“She’s in a room down the hall with your mortal enemy or what not,” she pointed out. “You’d have to be a little mad to still want whatever you had.”

“Clearly it’s just because she’s stuck around him. They share a common room, they have to patrol together, they’re in classes together…she’s just confused,” he tried to reason. 

Pansy wasn’t sure to burst his bubble or not, and in the end, opted not to. She needed him to help break up the pair. “Good,” she sipped her glass. “We’ll go shopping come morning,” she thought out loud. “And you’ll be RSVPing to the Slughorn Party. As you said, he’s there, you’re not.”

Staring at her he actually looked more than a little confused. “Why are we going shopping? And Slughorn hasn’t even invited us to the holiday party…”

“He will,” she assured him. “And because I’m making sure you find a thoughtful and meaningful gift for Granger,” she said flatly. “Draco has galleons, you have... other advantages,” she remarked. “Unless you were lying when you said you paid attention.”

“No, I pay attention….and I’ve gotten her gifts,” he said a bit more defensively than he probably should have. He hadn’t while they were dating and he honestly hadn’t thought of the fact that Malfoy had galleons at his disposal. 

“What did you get her?” she demanded.

“Sugar quills, books...you know, gift stuff,” he fidgeted before downing the firewhiskey again and pouring another glass. He’d rather be drunk. 

Pansy blinked slowly. “So just stuff you think she’ll like without much more than the obvious? Everyone knows Granger likes sugar quills and books,” she retorted.

“I don’t remember the specific books, Parkinson. But they were things she mentioned!” He attempted to defend himself. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you’re just hoping to coast along, then prepare to lose. Even Malfoy gift wrapping is an experience.” She definitely had her work cut out for her. A thought she downed with her glass.

He just grumbled in response to that before he downed another glass of the firewhiskey. It was barely burning anymore. 

“How are you at charms?” She asked. “Transfiguration?” Something. “I won’t bother to ask about potions.” She’d seen enough in class.

“Pretty decent at both Charms and Transfiguration. Sort of have to be,” he drawled. Potions he was...passable. Just not in Snape’s course. 

“Good, we’ll find something you can jazz up, magic is personal, and personal touches show more than just thought,” she explained.

“Fine, yeah, alright,” he muttered. Why the hell was Parkinson helping him?

“That’s the spirit.” She rolled her eyes. “Tomorrow, don’t mention tonight,” she told him. “And this is going to be hard for you I’m sure, don’t rise to anything regarding Malfoy.” She had a feeling this would be the hardest part really.

That made him glance at her and he narrowed his eyes slightly. “Don’t mention it and don’t…..You expect me to be _nice_ to that bleached ferret?”

“Sickeningly so,” she responded. “He can’t call you anything but Weasel, playing nice isn’t something he can do, which makes him the immature one,” she explained. 

“So you’re wanting me to play nice with….” he just trailed off and couldn’t help but groan. Rather than continue the conversation, he took another long pull from the glass of firewhiskey. 

She chuckled. “At the very least, don’t engage him, or mention him,” she said. Baby steps.

A sigh left his lips, but he didn’t question it. Clearly Parkinson was crazier than he thought. 

“You can play nice can’t you?” she demanded. “You need to also not bring up tonight with Granger, I’ve heard how judgy you get,” she said, taking another drink from her glass.

“Excuse me for being disgusted that she’s with that slimy entitled serpent,” he grumbled, not answering her other question. If he had to be nice later he was going to get it out while he could. 

“I’m not exactly pleased he’s with an overachieving bitch with a savior complex,” she replied easily. 

At that he lifted a brow. “Savior complex?”

“It’s a Gryffindor staple. A need to fix and save what’s seen as a lost cause.” She gave him a bit of a three quarter stare as if he were case and point.

Ron couldn’t help but scoff a little bit at that. “The war is something different entirely and not all of Gryffindor was helping with that, were they?”

“Krum. McLaggen. You. She has a type. Brutes that are more handsy than wordy,” she broke it down for him. “And though Draco can be both those things, he’s definitely more than physical. The two brightest students our year produced, think about it,” she said leaving him to mull, a slight slur to her words.

“She never tried to “fix” Krum, McLaggen, or myself. That wasn’t….no. McLaggen was…” He trailed off but shut his mouth. That wasn’t Parkinson’s business, that Hermione had dated him to try and prove a point about his own rude behavior. It had backfired as well as worked though hadn’t it?

Pansy chuckled. “Yes and I’m a virgin.” She rolled her eyes. Works in progress they’d all been. 

Ron simply glared at her and rather than use the glass, he drank straight from the bottle again. “She wasn’t fixing us.”

“So I’m not fixing your deficiencies?” She chuckled. “Obviously she decided it wasn’t worth the effort…”

Once again, he simply glared at her for several long moments before he shrugged. “Clearly Malfoy felt the same about you.”

If she wanted to be a bitch, he’d dig into her as well. 

“He doesn’t have to love me, we have our games.” It was all she needed, or so she’d convinced herself. “The rest is just...semantics. Much easier than this mess,” she pointed to him. 

“Lack of love is what made You-Know-Who, so good luck with that,” he said simply, voice more cold than it had been and slurred a bit more as he took another swig from the bottle. 

She looked at Ron. “That was rape, Draco is my friend and I know what’s expected of me. Merely a small price to pay, and then we’ll likely have discreet affairs on the side if he doesn’t come around,” she sighed. “Not everyone gets as lucky as Narcissa and Lucius but my parents aren’t in love and I’m not exactly taking over the world am I?”

Looking back at Pansy he shook his head at that. “That’s not marriage, it’s a business transaction. And pretty poor one at that. Clearly the purebloods haven’t learned anything from that war if they’re still pushing outdated ideas,” he said simply. 

“It is a business transaction, one the Malfoys and my parents decided a long time ago,” she shrugged. “Not everything is about blood purity,” she rolled her eyes. The bitterness was definitely there, and she drank it away with another glass. 

“Doesn’t matter if it isn’t about blood purity. Why wouldn’t your family want something else if it’s not about blood purity?” He couldn’t help but ask.

She looked at him a moment. “You really don’t understand how the Ministry or any of it works do you,” she said and shook her head. “Not that I’d know, I’m just a silly stubborn girl,” she quoted her own father, cheeks flushing. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t have any more choice than he does, which is good for you.”

He scoffed. “Stubborn? Sure. Silly? Hardly,” he replied simply to that with a shake of his head and took a long drink from the bottle. “Good for me unless ‘Mione figures out he doesn’t have a choice…”

“Doubtful he would admit it, which means we need to control how that comes out,” she warned. “I will hex you if you blab.”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment, Parkinson.”

“Good, I need you to take it seriously.”

Holding back a scoff he simply nodded and moved back up on the bed to lay back down, propped up with the pillows as he took another swig from the bottle. 

With him closer, she was much more aware of their proximity. To stop herself from mentioning it too quickly, she took another drink, definitely feeling the effects as her limbs felt warmer and her head spun.

Turning to look at him she perked a brow.

Feeling her eyes on him he looked back over at her and lifted a brow of his own. “What?”

She merely continued to stare, was he honestly just going to sleep there? Beside her? Sure she was helping him, but that was towards a mutual end.

That continued staring had him raise a brow at that. “Parkinson….I’m not a mind reader.”

“Definitely not,” she agreed. “I’m just stunned you’re getting so comfortable beside me,” she began, toying with the ring on her pinky.

“Well, I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“Glad to see chivalry is still alive and well in Gryffindorks.”

“You wound up in my room, Parkinson, and there aren’t any other rooms or I’d leave. Or if I had my wand I’d make a cot. Since none of those are options,” he shrugged and put the bottle on the nightstand. 

She tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks. “I wasn’t _trying_ to get in your room.”

A sigh left his lips. “I know. But I’m tired, I’m irritated, I’m hurt, and I just wanna sleep, Parkinson.”

“I’m tired, irritated, and slept with you once already,” she gritted, settling her glass down. “If you hog the blankets I will kick you.”

“I won’t hog the blankets,” he grumbled.

Wrapping herself even more in the layers of blankets she turned her back to him. “And don’t mistake me for your ex again,” she snapped.

Another groan left him at that as he moved under the blankets and closed his eyes. “Won’t happen again.”

“Good,” she grumbled.


	40. The Golden Trio

The next morning, Hermione got ready before Draco had woken up. Both of them had slept peacefully, a level of satisfaction she hadn’t felt before. Placing a kiss on his lips, she moved back to the adjoining bathroom to tame her hair and make sure she looked every inch the princess of Gryffindor house before she left the room. 

Though aware, he made no motion to move, allowing himself to linger in that space between being awake and sleep. If he rose now, he knew she would be late to see her friends, and he still had to deal with Pansy and return her wand along with the Weasels. Perhaps Hermione would do that.

Once her hair was tamed, she wrapped her garnet and gold scarf around her neck before she wandered back into the room. Pausing for just a moment, she strode right up to the side of the bed and pressed a kiss to his temple. The idea of leaving him without kissing him was not one she enjoyed. 

Catching her arm as she leaned, he eyed her with a lazy smirk. “Proper kiss,” he demanded gently, slicking his lips. 

“Bossy,” she chided softly but smiled as she leaned in and brushed her lips to his. It was going to be even harder to deny him after the night they had. 

“Very,” he agreed against her lips. “You should take this,” he pointed to Ron’s wand. “I’ll see you for dinner,” he pressed another kiss to her cheek.

“Another thing we have in common,” she said gently before she picked up Ron’s wand and kissed Draco gently again before pulling away. If she kept kissing him she’d be distracted. “Make sure Parkinson doesn’t maim you,” she half joked, but she had a feeling it was a possibility. 

After getting herself some coffee and a scone, she was at the entrance to the village, starting to keep count of each of the students as they came through. There was a list she was checking, making sure that only those with permission slips were coming to the village and that no one seemed to be causing trouble...yet. 

After a few rounds through the village, she returned back to the Three Broomsticks, and got a table for herself, Ron, and Harry.

Although Harry was the first to arrive, he was clearly still waking up. A much deserved treat after months of tireless training. The pair chatted a bit, Hermione explaining how she’d seen Ginny shopping earlier, but before she could keep saying anything more, Ron came into the Three Broomsticks again with a grumble and took the seat next to Harry. 

“Hi,” he said simply with a bit of sourness to his tone. 

Hermione paused before she took his wand out from an inner pocket of her jacket and passed it over to Ron. “Good afternoon, Ronald. Here’s your wand back,” she stated simply before Rosemerta came by to take their drink orders. 

Ron said simply with a bit of a resignedness to it as he took his wand and turned it over in his hands, looking at it as if he was trying to make sure that there was no damage to it as Rosemerta left with their orders.

Hermione waited until the barmaid came back with their drinks, students still mostly out in the village rather than here getting drinks. She took a sip and then glanced back at Harry. “Are you staying the rest of the weekend or are you going back to training after today?”

“We have to head back,” Harry sighed, though he looked at Ron. “Do I want to know how you lost your wand?” he asked, running fingers through his unkempt locks.

Ron actually looked at his best mate and then glanced at Hermione. “I don’t know, does he want to know, Hermione?”

That actually made her flush slightly, of course he was turning this around back on her. “Ron,” she sighed as she shook her head. “Ron, Draco, Pansy, and I had a bit of a spat.”

“A bit?!” He actually spluttered at her with a shake of his head. “More than a bit, Hermione.”

Harry looked between his friends. “Pansy?”

“Parkinson seems to have been looking for her ex,” she explained carefully and tried not to fidget even as a faint blush filled her cheeks. “And there was a case of mistaken identity.”

Ron wasn’t sure how to say that in nearly as tactful a way Hermione did and at least that was one way to explain it. Rather than add to it, he took a long pull from his pint of butterbeer. 

Harry drank from his pumpkin juice and tried not to overthink it. Mistaken identity? It couldn’t have been too bad, right?

“Well at least you have your wand back,” he shrugged, and soon they were giving their order in for an early lunch.

Conversation didn’t quite flow as easily as it usually did. At least not at first. By the time food arrived, the trio mostly dug in, keeping their conversation surprisingly light all things considered. Ron and Harry covered all they had been doing back at the Ministry. Their training and how they would be tested and moving onto a different part of testing come the Holidays. Hermione covered her studies, how Slughorn was still behaving which surprised no one, Peeves and his antics, and of course the fact that she still wasn’t sure what she wanted to do after graduation 

Each of them paid for their own meal, which was something easier for both Ron and Hermione to do now for different reasons. Hermione was the first one to stand up and she smiled at the pair. 

“So...do either of you need help with your Christmas shopping this year?” She half teased the other two. This felt more normal. 

Harry chuckled. “Always,” he admitted. “Though I have Ginny covered, I think,” he added. He didn’t have what he wanted yet, but he would.

Hermione grinned a bit more at that. “Oh? Care to share what you’ll be getting for her?”

Ron actually gleaned at Harry, not sure whether he wanted to know, but then he looked back at Hermione. “We both typically need help...and you haven’t even told _us_ what you want for Christmas yet.”

“Well it’s still a work in progress, and honestly, I rather not have anyone else’s input on it,” he offered. “I mean I doubt Ron wants to hear about the lingerie I got his sister,” he teased.

Ron groaned and got up, heading towards the door a bit more rapidly. “Shut up, I don’t want to hear _anything_ about that. Bad enough I have to deal with you two snogging on holidays…” he grumbled, albeit a little dramatically. 

She held back a snicker as she shook her head with a smile. “That was horrible,” she half heartedly chided Harry even as she started toward the door. “Well, I was simply curious since I won’t be at the Burrow this year.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel a pang at that mention. “Won’t be the same without you,” he said honestly. “But I get it,” he added, not wanting to make her feel guilty. It was complicated enough, and though he said nothing about it, he was proud of Ron not to have really antagonized Hermione.

Hermione smiled slightly at him. “I know...just doesn’t feel like I should. Maybe we could see each other at New Year though,” she offered. The holidays were going to be hard enough without having to see Ron’s family or him attempting anything. 

Opening the door and leading the trio out, Ron glanced back at Hermione and had to bite his tongue. In the end they had at least agreed on New Years before heading down Main Street to help find something for Mrs Weasley. She was a hard woman to shop for.

Harry tried not to shrug, scratching the back of his neck. He was dating Ginny, and his entire youth, Mrs Weasley had been a mother figure to him, and now, well now he was old enough to properly gift her, which he wanted to do.

“Somehow Mrs Weasley doesn’t seem the jewelry type,” Harry sighed.

Stopping off on a side street with them, Hermione let her gaze roam over shops. “Perhaps another dining set? She keeps entertaining more and more people and her kids do keep bringing home more people as well….”

Harry stopped and considered her words. “That might actually be a good idea,” he said. It wasn’t something he’d have even thought of. “Where do I shop for that?” he asked, a bit guilty at having to do so.

Hermione tried not to laugh but before she could say anything Ron piped in. “Oi, why do you get the first good idea?” It was meant in good natured jest as he glanced over at his best mate. 

Shaking her head, she almost swatted at Ron. “Because it should be _easier_ for you to come up with a gift for your mother. At least your dad is easy to buy for...anything Muggle related.”

“Oh I have Mr Weasley covered,” Harry smirked. “What would we ever do without you, Hermione?” he told the brunette as they made their way into a shop he had never bothered to notice before. Likely the place Madam Puddifoot got much of her wares. 

Ron eyed tea sets while Harry tried not to feel overwhelmed by the number of plates that lined the walls, their looks as varied as their price points. 

“We need to find a pattern that matches if you’re getting a tea set and you’re getting a dining set.” And she had to maybe find a set of toasting glasses or something for Mrs Weasley. 

“Pattern?” Harry asked, looking around the shop and feeling way out of his depth. _Well shit._ There were so many options. So many colors. Some extremely delicate, others a bit more creative.

“Oh...bloody hell,” Ron groaned with feeling. 

Unhooking her arms from the boys, she grinned as she moved further into the shop, leading them through as she went on about patterns and colors, and the various things to look for. Something she’d read in a magazine at her parents clinic once upon a time.

Across the street from where the trio shopped, Draco had caught up to Pansy as he did his rounds. She was more than prickly, but that seemed to ease ever so slightly once her wand was back in her hands. Still, she had feigned to ignore him all the way to the apothecary’s. Once she’d been given the phial she had come for, she pocketed it and turned to the blond man.

“Why are you still here?” she demanded.

“Pansy,” he started, but she was holding her hand up.

The brunette shook her head and sucked in her cheeks. Discontent wasn’t a look that worked for her, but she wore it like the most fearsome goddess.

“Oh no,” she warned. “You don’t get to Pansy me,” she hissed, poking a finger into his chest. “Enjoy this while you can, because I promise you, Draco Malfoy, you will regret this.” Her tone was quiet, and from a distance, they might have seemed in pleasant conversation, but even he knew she meant every word.

The pair had split from their short lived discussion if one could even call it that. Draco had made his way to plan dinner with Hermione, while Pansy had plans to get a few items before she returned to Hogwarts. After all, she would have to check on Ronald before he bailed for the day.

There were a few shops that the Golden Trio went through, and it seemed like people were happy to see the three of them together again. At least, most people. Hermione had some bags sent back to the Three Broomsticks while they shopped and kept a few on her, not noticing when the boys sent things back or not. 

It wasn’t until they were heading towards Honeydukes, just a customary snack since they all loved their sweet treats, did the whispered rumors start to follow again. 

_“You think Potter and Weasley know about the Slugclub party?”_

_“Do you think that she really jinxed Draco? It would make sense.”_

_“A Muggleborn around an ex-Death Eater could not look good for her future. Or Harry’s!”_

_“The Golden Trio isn’t so Golden anymore…”_

Ron blinked a few times and glanced around at some of the people talking and then glanced at Harry before looking to Hermione.

The arm with her own scar was tucked in against her side and there was a tension in her shoulders as she kept her head held high and simply quickened her pace into Honeydukes, going to get what sweet treats she wanted as quickly as possible. 

Harry met his mate’s gaze as he put an arm around the brunette. He wasn’t sure what to say, but tucking her in an awkward side hug seemed the right call. “It’s like we never left Hogwarts,” he offered with a tentative grin.

The brunette almost shrugged away, feeling vulnerable as she kept her arm tucked in against her body as she leaned into Harry. “At least the gossip isn’t focused on you this time,” she attempted to joke. 

The ginger on the other hand was moving through the sweet shop as swiftly as he could. He was grabbing his favorites, Harry’s, and Hermiones, going to try and make this a quicker trip than it usually was. 

“Maybe one of them is an unregistered animagus you can trap in a jar for a while,” Harry offered hopefully. “That would keep them quiet.”

She snorted slightly at that, glancing up at Harry. “Sadly that won’t fix all of my problems...and they might get worse before they get better.”

As he returned to his friends, Ron balanced the boxes of different sweets. “Did I forget anything? We can check out quicker now,” he offered. 

“Exploding bonbons?” Harry asked. “Those animal pastille thingies?” he grinned. He had every intention of pranking a few of their peers back at the ministry.

He tried not to snicker as he looked at him. “George would be proud,” he grinned as he darted to go grab those as well. 

Hermione glanced at her best mate and shook her head. “You two are still up to no good,” she half chuckled but there was a smile at least. 

“We solemnly swear,” Harry grinned.

“They’d be proud,” she added with a smile, knowing that they would be. All of them. 

Ron returned a moment later with three more boxes of sweets. “You still eat sugar quills, right, Hermione? They had new flavors so I got a box of those.”

She blinked a few times at that but then nodded her head. “I do….thank you.”

Harry took a couple boxes off Ron’s hands. “At least our day ends on a sweet note,” he said, taking a chocolate frog for the road. “I have one more shop to hit before London, and I have to go alone,” he smirked. There were two people he hadn’t shopped for. “Last chance for suggestions,” he told them teasingly.

“Mmm, if it’s something for Ginny? Make it silver. Gold would clash with her hair,” she teased Harry. She wasn’t sure if it was jewelry, but she could guess and she took a few of the boxes of sweets she knew were for her and moved to the counter. 

Ron actually looked at Harry and had to think about it. “...Nothing over the top for her. You know she isn’t like Fleur or something…”

“I meant you guys, but thanks for the tips,” he chuckled.

“Well...I still enjoy adding to my book collection,” she said as she drew out the sickles necessary for her snacks and passed them across the counter. 

He blinked a few times as he glanced between Hermione and Harry and then shrugged. “Surprise me.”

“Perfect, hopefully I don’t settle on tea cozies for the both of you,” he taunted lightly.

“Don’t you dare,” she stated with a laugh as she stepped out of Ron’s way as he paid for his snacks before leaving it to Harry to buy his own.

Soon enough the trio was back on Main Street, saying their farewells before parting ways. It would be a while before Ron and Harry headed back to King’s Cross, but until then, they both had a few things they wanted to achieve.

Ron did glance over at Harry for a moment, watching as Hermione walked away back towards the Three Broomsticks to put her things away. He looked a little concerned and then glanced back to Harry. 

“Those gossips sound like they’re a problem,” he brought up carefully, not directing the conversation towards the one rumor that had made him cringe internally. 

“They always are,” Harry replied. “Not sure there’s much we can do.”

“Maybe...if training doesn’t keep us...we could show up for Slughorn’s shindig?”

Harry perked a brow but nodded. “I suppose if we can’t be together at Christmas we can at least manage one party.” He pat Ron’s shoulder. Of course he wanted to see his friends happy. He just wasn’t sure as to what exactly that entailed.

Ron actually perked up a little bit. “Excellent. We’ll make it a surprise for both Hermione and Ginny, it’ll be great,” he encouraged and at least that would maybe get Parkinson to leave him the hell alone.


	41. Serpents and Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains Ronsy, as such, we will update shortly with a dramione chapter <3

Pansy had gotten herself a coffee from Puddifoots and walked through Main Street. She had made a few stops after shaking Draco and his annoying need for control, and had done what she did best. Finding the trio wasn’t hard, especially with how vicious the rumour mill was lately. She’d merely followed the mean jabs and kept to the shadows until they had all parted ways. With a hand and scarf borrowed from a Ravenclaw peer, she didn’t look quite her usual self, so she felt rather confident in accosting the red head.

“Hopefully you behaved,” was all she told him in greeting, sipping her coffee as she locked her arm with his. 

As Parkinson spoke, it nearly made Ron jump. He had been in his head as he looked at the door to the book shop, the different quills in the windows, and he was trying to get ideas. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she shrugged and looked at the window. “Shopping for Granger?”

“I behaved,” he grumbled as he glanced over at her before he looked back into the window. “For Christmas...Already sent an apology gift to her room,” he muttered as he blushed. 

A small nod of approval was given. At least he was listening. “What did you get?”

A sigh left his lips slightly. “There was this bag that looks like a book. I enchanted it before sending it so it has more space in it than it typically would. She always wants more bag space for books, quills, parchment,” he explained and didn’t look at Parkinson for a few more minutes. 

“You going to micromanage what I get for Hermione now?” He asked as he glanced back over at her. 

“If you could get her back on your own, you would have,” she said pointedly. “And for the record, it’s not a bad start. I can work with that. Though books and Hermione don't seem very creative,” she said gently. “So Christmas, what were you thinking?” She asked. It wasn’t her ideal way of spending the day, but it would do.

He tried not to twitch. “I’m not trying to coerce her into being with me,” he pointed out with a shake of her head. “I want her to _want_ to be with me,” he said pointedly even as he let out another breath. “The book cover of the bag was her favorite non-Muggle text. Christmas I was thinking something like a bracelet with charms on it...she doesn’t like flashy things so maybe….maybe if I pick the charms carefully it’ll be fine…”

That had potential. “We’ll definitely have to work on that one, but I think you’re onto something. Especially if we personalize it.” Pansy tried to keep it strictly business. She really just needed Granger away from Draco. 

“I had some things delivered to your room,” she said simply. “Should help us keep in touch. How’s your writing?” She demanded.

“I...what have you had delivered to my room, Parkinson?” He asked carefully before he answered any further questions from the serpent. This was an odd situation and he wasn’t sure how to process any of it. At least Parkinson was somewhat on his side. More like her own side but same difference. 

“Nothing cursed if that’s what you’re asking,” she all but rolled her eyes. “Two way mirrors for one,” she said simply. “Faster than owls, and then you can see my disappointment on my face when you inevitably let me down,” she forced a small smile. “And a journal connected to one of mine, inspired by our second year, but my soul is very much intact, or nonexistent, whichever you prefer,” she shrugged. “So I can help you keep contact with Granger and add a little effort to your scrawl.”

“It doesn’t have to be cursed to be terrible,” he shot back but then nodded his head. Two way mirrors weren’t terrible and that way he wouldn’t have his owl showing up at Hogwarts all the time. Though at that comment he rolled his eyes. “Oh, haha. How do I know you won’t be the disappointing one? You telling me Malfoy would give up what he wants that easily?” 

Pansy chuckled. “That’s the whole point,” she reminded him pointedly. “Malfoy will fight, especially if I help Granger see something in you she missed,” she shrugged. “And he’ll fight dirty, which will make him look bad...are we still on the same page?”

Ron wasn’t convinced that Draco _would_ fight dirty. He’d already seemed more cozy with Hermione than he had ever been with her and that got under his skin. Got under his skin and made him more irritable than he cared to admit. 

“Yeah, I got it...already planning to try and show up to Slughorn’s party as well,” he admitted. Not that he felt he had to tell Pansy much of anything, but it seemed for the time being they were allies. 

“There’s no try, you need to do,” she spoke in her snippy tone. “We’ll be in touch before then,” she shrugged. “I’ll send you a note in the journal to figure out a time to discuss your correspondences with Granger,” she said simply, her tone dismissive as she began to turn on her heels to leave.

“There is a try considering I still have training that I have to take care of Parkinson. I can’t just tell my trainer, Oi, I’m trying to woo back my girlfriend. Gotta go,” he said with a roll of his eyes as he looked over at her. “And what happens if your _tutelage_ isn’t enough?”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Then that will speak more on my pupil than my capabilities,” she retorted. “Goodbye, Ronald.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he looked back in the window. “Goodbye, Pansy.” Damn serpents. All of them were insane.


	42. Courtship

Hermione watched as the other students trekked their way back to the castle, her arms loosely crossed over her chest as she checked off nearly everyone. She wasn’t sure if Parkinson had left before they could double check at the village or if she was still here somewhere...not that she could bring herself to care too much in that moment. A bit of tension started to ease out of her shoulders. Those rumors had followed her through most of the village. 

Draco held a matching list, checking off names as they left. He hoped Pansy had indeed left. The last thing he needed was another outburst, this time in public.

“Seems that’s it for the day,” he reviewed the list again, ignoring the one unmarked box.

“It would seem so, thank Merlin for that,” she sighed as she glanced over the list again, also ignoring Pansy’s box as she folded back up the parchment and ran her fingers through her hair. 

Discreetly, he nudged her elbow to turn them around. “I made dinner arrangements,” he offered gently. He hoped she would be alright with it. Where the likes of Pansy expected it, Hermione Granger often threw him off for a loop.

That did seem to surprise her a little as she turned with him to start going back to the Three Broomsticks. “Oh...thank you,” she murmured as she glanced over to him with a bit more of a smile curving her lips. 

Reaching for her elbow he guided her another way, off a small street. “Different place,” he said gently.

Hermione lifted a brow but actually looped her arm through his. “Now I’m intrigued.” 

“Good,” he offered with a bit of a coy smile, risking a bit more proximity as they walked a less frequented street, the students all likely halfway to the castle.

Butterflies were fluttering in her stomach and her inquisitive mind was going through the different places she _knew_ were in the village...but she hadn’t strayed too far from main street before. The only exception was the Hogs Head. 

They were a bit further down the street, past the Spice Bazaar and few muted storefronts. During Valentine’s Day, it was all doilies and glitter, but throughout the year it was a bit more muted, although definitely in the Victorian romantic ideal.

Rather than enter through the front, Draco ushered Hermione alongside the side of the building, to a service door that was used both for staff, deliveries, and special guests that wished to use the second floor. Normally it was used for parties and gatherings, but Malfoy had snagged it for the two of them. 

A table for two had been set, a three tiered plate settled in the middle, a teapot on a small tray beside it waiting for a choice of tea to be piping hot.

As they were ushered inside, she couldn’t help but smile a bit more as she noticed the privacy and the exclusivity of it all. Well, this was different. She knew that she couldn’t be seen in public with him too much, as much as she disliked it, but she was glad he had found a way to still treat her to something more than a dinner at the Three Broomsticks. 

“You managed this just this afternoon?” 

Draco gave her a small smile. “Perhaps,” he offered her, not quite wanting to give away his achievements. Truth was he’d sent an owl to Madam Puddifoot earlier that week, though it hadn’t been until morning that he’d been able to put the finishing touches.

“Mhmm,” she sounded even as she tucked her hair out of her face. This was nice. She’d only ever been to Madam Puddifoot’s for tea with her friends, never with a boyfriend. So this was going to be nice. It was something she’d wanted to do with a date for a while now. 

Marching forward, Draco pulled a chair back and motioned for her to take a seat. “Can’t you just enjoy something without knowing how it was done?”

A soft laugh left her at that and she looked at him with a raised brow. “I’m enjoying it, Draco. Though I am always curious,” she reminded as she took a seat, letting him be a gentleman. 

Although there was nothing wrong with being inquisitive, Draco had the distinct feeling she would always inquire.

Settling in her seat she sat up straight and just offered him her best charming smile...with just a hint of mischief there. She did hang out with Harry and Ron for most of her school career after all. 

He concealed the laughter that lingered behind his lips as he tucked her seat in and moved to sit before her. 

“Any tea preference?” He asked, motioning to a wooden box with a number of options at their disposal.

“I am pretty partial to oolong or herbal teas….Especially after navigating back as the Golden Trio again,” she chuckled, though the Golden Trio was stated with a bit of irony to it. 

“Perhaps we can find common ground, a Victorian Earl Grey?” he offered. A mix of rosehips and sweeter flowers added to tone the bitter strength of Earl Grey.

Hermione seemed to consider that a moment before she gave a nod of her head. “A wonderful compromise,” she agreed with a small smile. 

Rather than use magic, he placed a few leveled spoons into the infuser and closed the lid back on it. This was nice, and he was glad they wouldn’t have to deal with interruptions or glares. In fact, he was even so bold as to brush her fingers over the table with his own. “There are more options in London, but until we can make that a reality,” he said with a bit of a corner smile.

A bit more of a smile curved her lips as she let her fingers brush his in return, enjoying that bit of openness. She hoped that eventually she wouldn’t just be dating him in secret...but she had agreed to it. “Making plans for after graduation?” She couldn’t help but ask even as her heart skipped at that thought. 

“I was thinking more for the next holiday,” he explained. “Christmas break, Easter, there are a number of opportunities for us to leave the castle and go beyond Hogsmeade,” he continued and paused.

“True...If you give me enough warning I’ll make sure that Harry and Ron know I’m busy for one of the breaks.” If she didn’t then they’d likely try to hunt her down. 

Gently, he laced his fingers with hers. “Over the holidays, I’d like to take you out on a proper date,” he said simply. “If you care to join me,” he added. He’d get a hotel room if they needed it.

A faint blush filled her cheeks but she nodded her head with a smile. “I’d really like that and would be more than happy to,” she reassured him. 

Relief washed over the Slytherin at the statement. Still, it left him with quite a few things to plan on his end. Of course if he could have her at the Manor he would, but that would mean dealing with his parents and exposing her to prior trauma. Something he wasn’t sure either of them was truly ready for.

“Then it will be so,” he promised.

“I look forward to it. Though you’re responsible for warming me up if it has anything to do with the cold,” she half teased with a small glint in her eyes. 

Draco had no issues making that promise. “I can practice doing so tonight,” he offered cheekily. Any time he had her in his arms was worth it. He wasn’t much for the cold himself, so he doubted they would have to worry much about getting chilly.

Hermione blushed a little bit more but she couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. “Oh, agreed. Sounds like a good time to practice,” she offered right back. After last night she wasn’t sure if she would turn him down that often if at all again. 

“I thought so too,” he smirked, reaching for the teapot and pouring them each a cup, starting with hers. He settled it down and took his teacup in hand. As he did, the three tiered plates before them filled with delicious offerings. Scones, clotted cream, finger sandwiches, and delightful colorful petits fours.

She added a bit of sugar to her tea, not much, and smiled over at him. “Well, glad we can find even more things to agree about now,” she half teased as she took a careful sip of her tea before putting a few finger sandwiches on her plate along with a scone and one of the colorful petit fours.

That did seem to be an ongoing theme. The longer they got to know one another, the more they seemed to have in common. Perhaps not so much families or backgrounds, but they did have more in common than he would have thought. Of course they still had their differences, that would never change, but it kept things interesting.

Smiling he took a few snacks and placed them on his plate, taking small bites that wouldn’t hinder conversation too long as he’d been taught.

“Did things go well with your friends?” he asked, feeling he should at least check in on her.

As she picked up a finger sandwich she chuckled slightly. “Sort of...Ronald didn’t bring anything up to Harry if that’s what you mean. Though they did hear some of the rumors flying around the castle,” she sighed. 

Shaking her head she took a small bite of the sandwich. She was being careful not to take large bites, making sure she’d be able to reply to him easily enough as they enjoyed a different kind of dinner arrangement. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he assured her between bites. “Just making sure you had a good time with your friends,” he said before sipping his tea.

“I know you didn’t. If I thought you did I’d be a bit more reactive,” she explained. Reactive was one word for it as she took another bite as well. “How did returning the wand to Parkinson go?”

He took a bite to gather his words. “I’m not cursed,” he started to say. “Pansy’s angry,” he said honestly. “Hopefully she’ll come around.” That was more hope for himself than anything else. As much as she could be a pain in the ass, she was one of his oldest friends, and that meant something to him.

“I had noticed the lack of a curse so I was hopeful that it went better than expected,” she admitted. Hermione took a sip of her tea and then nodded her head. “Ron is too, but he seemed...calmer than expected. Hopefully she does come around...I don’t want you to lose a friend.”

He’d been through a lot with Pansy, dating had only complicated things between them. Something he took most of the blame for. “Perhaps the Ministry has taught him to control his temper,” Draco said, but wasn’t quite sold on it.

“Maybe…” she mused in agreement but she wasn’t sold on it either. Something was going on but she didn’t know what and wasn’t going to call him on it, not yet. She ate another sandwich, having a feeling that Draco would say something if she didn’t finish what she had put on her plate. 

Whatever had Ron less spiteful was good, at least he hoped. Rather than think about their exes, he sipped his tea. “Did you finish your shopping?” he asked. He’d mostly covered their duties, so he still had a few things to shop, but there was still time.

“I got most of it done,” she admitted with a small smile, though she still had no clue what in the world to get Draco. It seemed like most things he wanted he would just get. It made this whole thing a little more complicated. 

“That’s good,” he nodded. He of course hadn’t gotten her gifts yet, but he doubted he would find them in Hogsmeade of all places. Ideas had begun forming in his mind however, which had led to a few sketches jotted in his notebook. Many would require magical alterations, which he was still researching. “Perhaps we can dip into Gladrags, see if we find anything for Slughorn’s party,” he offered. She hadn’t had a say the last time, but he was willing to get a sense of what she might enjoy.

“It is. I’m having trouble thinking of something for a few people though,” she mused with a slight shrug before she took another sip of her tea. Slughorn’s party was fast approaching again and she couldn’t help but smile a little bit more at that suggestion. “I’d like that. Perhaps not all green this time. I think we scandalized them enough on Halloween.”

“I suppose we can find a different color scheme, if only not to be redundant,” he smirked. “Who do you have left?” he asked.

“Perhaps we could incorporate silver and a bit of gold, to represent both of our houses?” She mused as a thought before she blushed slightly. “You for one,” she answered honestly. 

A mix of silver and gold could work. He’d have to see some options before figuring it out. Normally his tailor sent swatches and sketches. This time would be different. “Me?” he asked blinking before swallowing down a finger sandwich rather roughly. “You don’t have to get me anything,” he assured her.

She gave him a look with a slightly raised brow. “I don’t _have_ to, but I want to. You didn’t have to pay for my dress, now did you?” She countered with a bit of a smile. 

A few years back, Draco Malfoy would have had a number of scathing replies. “I did actually,” he said simply. “McLaggen would have tried harder if I hadn’t made it clear you were my date,” he shrugged. “Not that you don’t dress up nicely,” he recalled the Yule Ball. Still it hadn’t been at a Malfoy level. 

A sigh left her lips at that and she just looked back at him a moment. “There are other ways of making that abundantly clear,” she replied calmly enough though she did blush slightly at that. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. I haven’t had too many occasions to get dressed up for.”

“Is that so?” he asked, curious to see what she had in mind. Of course there were other ways that weren’t very much becoming of his upbringing, but somehow he doubted that was what she meant.

“To which? Other ways or not having that many occasions to dress up for?” She replied with a bit of cheek. Oh, she could guess what he meant. But even just kissing her or more than just escorting her would have worked. But she supposed the green did send a message. 

“I can fix the latter, but I’m curious to hear of your other ways,” he said simply.

“Well, on second thought they would have thrown our current agreement of discretion out the window,” she sighed slightly. 

Draco nodded. “And we were clear about avoiding touching during that particular event,” he reminded gently, refilling his cup with hot tea. “Probably not a bad idea to repeat the same for the upcoming one,” he added.

Hermione gave a slight nod of her head as she waited for him to finish pouring his tea before she poured more for herself. “...Probably.” 

How he would try to get her invited to his mother’s party without saying the why of it came to mind but she brushed that away. The last thing she wanted to do was make things harder for him and his family because of this.They liked each other but she knew he wouldn’t bet his future on like. 

Where he might have been forward with Pansy, he didn’t feel that need with Hermione. She wasn’t a show to be put on, and that made a difference to him. Still, he had quite a bit to achieve, especially if he planned to get her into the Manor over the holidays. He was still working on a few options.

“So Gladrags, any other stops after this?” he asked.

Resisting the urge to question his plans for the holidays or anything else, she shook her head with a bit of a smile. “I don’t think so. Can’t exactly figure out what to get for you while you’re with me, now can I?” She attempted to tease lightly as she took another sip of her tea. 

He chuckled at that. “Likewise,” he offered in an equally teasing manner.

A bit more of a smile started to curve her lips. “Hmmm, well if I don’t _have_ to get you anything you don’t _have_ to get me anything,” she bantered, clearly still teasing him on the matter. 

“We’re courting...dating...I’m fairly certain, I _have_ to get you something,” he stated simply.

That word had her lift a brow slightly with a smile. “So, which is it? Courting or dating,” she teased lightly. 

“Both?” he decided to say, saving face. He was courting her to an extent. Perhaps not in the full sense of the word, but he wanted something from this. He had always wanted her, which made him fear pushing her away.

“Hmm,” she mused a moment before she selected another petit four and placed it on her plate. “I don’t think I’ve heard someone use the word courting outside of Muggle literature,” she murmured thoughtfully. It made her think of Jane Austin honestly. 

That was surprising to him, but he tried not to show it. “It’s quite common in certain wizarding circles,” he said, avoiding the obvious one, though it wasn’t exclusive to Purebloods. 

Hermione made a mental note to actually go back and look through other handbooks for courtship that might be applicable here and she nodded her head. “I suppose that makes sense...the Wizarding world can still be rather traditional in some ways.”

“Do muggles not have traditions then?” he asked.

“They do, but older courtship hasn’t really been done much as time progressed. Though I’ll admit, everything here in our world makes more sense than there more often than not now,” she almost chuckled. 

She spent so little time doing Muggle things that everything else just felt more natural. Her parents had tried to understand but ultimately just listened attentively and supported her. 

Somehow it didn’t exactly surprise him. Even in the wizard world there was a shift, mostly from muggleborns and the likes of the Weasleys diminishing the worth of traditions, not that he spoke such things out loud. Instead he made a hmm sound as he thought things over. It wasn’t like he was going to read about it either.

“You seem to have adapted quite well,” he commended. She had survived on her own with Potter the previous year, though that wasn’t exactly in society. Somehow he felt she would manage to do that as well.

A small smile curved her lips and she nodded, tucking a strand of hair out of her face. “I made sure I would. When I was eleven I kept thinking they could just take the letter back.” 

At that he nearly laughed. “You did seem to inch for expulsion,” he offered with a bit of a smirk. He supposed until her eighteenth, that would have been true. He ate a couple more petit fours. Perhaps he’d get her a few tomes that would help her adapt further. Glimpse his part of the wizard world she had yet to properly witness. Beyond tradition and blood supremacy it was events and connections, unwritten rules that constantly directed reactions and presentations. Some parts were annoyingly tedious, but overall, he couldn’t complain. Or perhaps he hadn’t really seen a reason to.

She looked just a little sheepish with a blush in her cheeks and shrugged. “I made friends that constantly got me into trouble...but without me I have a feeling they’d have been much worse off,” she said simply. Her friends were good people but so horribly impulsive. 

Finishing her second cup of tea, she finished the last treat that she had placed on her serving plate. At least she was able to keep up with that deal they had made for Halloween, she’d been careful about making sure her plate was always clean. 

Dead was more likely, but he held his tongue. There was no point to bring up the past beyond the vague recollection. Still, it had amounted to this very moment, as unlikely as that might have seemed not a year prior.

“Should we order some of these for tonight?” he asked. He was quite certain Madam Puddifoots wouldn’t mind building them a box of treats and have them sent to the Three Broomsticks. Mostly, he was glad he didn’t have to remind Hermione to eat, at least not when they were together.

“I won’t complain if you do,” she agreed rather easily. On the off chance she had nightmares, having sweets on hand would help. The words of wisdom that Remus Lupin once gave still came to her on occasion. 

He nodded and made a mental note to request a box to be sent to their room. The less he had to interact with Madam Rosemerta the better in his opinion.

As she reached for one more finger sandwich, she settled back in her seat with a soft sigh. It had been a long day. 

Settling his napkin beside his plate, he rose from the table. “I’ll make sure we have food in our room. We can head out whenever,” he assured, not wanting to rush her, but feeling their moment was slowly drawing to an end.

Hermione smiled a little bit more and nodded her head. “I’m ready to go when you are. I need to make sure all of the packages got to our room and just...relax a bit.”

He nodded at that. “Would you like to wait for me here, or by the door we came in by?” he asked gently. Though he had enjoyed the opportunity to eat with her, to brush her hand over the table, and just not worry about onlookers, the moment they left the room, that would be a bit more muted.

“I’ll wait for you here, that way I can steal another kiss or two before we have to be more...cautious until we get back to the Three Broomsticks,” she reasoned. It wasn’t like in Hogwarts where they had all the ins and outs of a patrol to sneak in touches here and there. 

A nod and he disappeared to the floor below to have a number of treats sent to their room. Though he wanted to be thorough, the promise of a few more stolen kisses had him work as quickly as he could to put in his order and pay for their meal. When he finally returned, he had to slow his pace for the last few stairs, not wanting to seem like he’d run, or done something beneath him.

“Now where were we?” he asked innocently enough as he closed the door behind him and closed the space between them.

Hermione moved to stand so she could be a bit closer to him, having waited patiently and sipped at her tea while she had. Though it did seem like he had been quicker than she would have expected. Striding closer she let her fingers brush along his shoulder. “I think we were right…”

Rather than say here, she leaned in and kissed him. It started gentle enough, just reveling in the fact that she could touch him somewhere that wasn’t their quarters in the castle. 

It took quite the effort to suppress the shiver down his spine that threatened to shrug his shoulders. Her lips were warm and soft against his, plump perfection he enjoyed to entreat. There were no words left to be said, none that couldn’t be expressed in the way he cupped her cheek and rested a hand to her hip. Nothing that could replace the desire that deepened their exchange.

Her arms slowly looped around his neck as she pressed closer to him, deepening the kiss with him as one hand trailed up into his hair. He was so gentle with her, surprisingly so if she was honest, but she loved each instance that they got to simply be close to each other. 

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against hers as he caught his breath. “We should probably head out…” His voice barely above a whisper. If they stayed there, he had half a mind to press her to the nearest wall, or prop her on the table, both thoughts he worked hard to suppress. 

“Probably,” she agreed, her voice just a bit louder than his. Though as she caught her breath she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and then to his jaw lightly. It was so easy to get caught up in things with him, even if her thoughts were a bit more innocent than his for now.

Lacing his fingers with hers he nudged her towards the door they’d come in by, a set of stairs leading towards the back. They caught a glimpse of the kitchen as they made their way back into the alley and away from the entrance most students used.

She lightly squeezed his hand as they moved along, following his lead despite the fact she could have easily stolen more kisses from him again. It was easy kissing him, easy just letting herself exist as a person around him oddly enough. 

With a glance around he stole a last kiss. Not heated like the others, but rather something gentle that lingered beside her lips. It was almost an apology for letting go of her hand. As much as he would have wanted to parade her, he had to calculate every risk. 

The warmth of his lips on hers lingered and she wanted to pull him back, but that would have to wait till later. Wait until they were back behind closed doors. It sent a pang through her chest but she offered a smile regardless and nodded. 

“Gladrags is this way,” he said, though he was certain she knew. 

“Well then, we should make sure we get there before they’re done with business for the day,” she was certain that getting their requests for garments in was going to be tough to squeeze in. There were a lot of things that happened in the village around the holidays. 

No wasn’t a word Draco was used to, especially when it came to purchasing anything. With that mindset, he led the way to the store a few streets down, holding the door with a spell so they could both enter without having to pause.

A few models were on display near the window, his silver gaze giving them a quick glance. The staff were currently busy measuring a couple witches, another calling out to them as she expertly cut fabric towards the back. A demeanor that changed as she noted the blond.

“Mr Malfoy,” she called with a slight dip of the head, walking over. “Shopping for something in particular?” she asked.

The attentiveness from the witch here at Gladrags was actually pretty surprising and Hermione couldn’t help but glance at Draco with the hint of a smile before she glanced back to the woman in particular. 

“We are,” he motioned to the brunette at his side. “Professor Slughorn is having a Christmas Party,” he explained. “We need something fitting.” As he made the final statement, he eyed Hermione. In his mind he could envision her in a number of dress robes. 

Looking at Draco she smiled slightly then glanced back over at the witch and gave a nod of her head. “Something that doesn’t represent either of our house colors this time I think. I think a longer skirt with a warmer material or an enchantment for the dress for warmth,” she mused. 

“What the lady asked,” he nodded in agreement.

“Of course,” the witch said, a quill taking notes at her side. “Let’s get you both measured, and I can show you both samples,” she began, ushering them to stands before a set of mirrors..

Hermione stepped up onto the stand easily enough, familiar enough with being measured. Draco taking a stand on the step beside her.

Measuring tapes streamed through the air and wrapped and stretched beside them. Once the numbers were jotted on a parchment, the measurement tools found their way back into the drawer of a nearby workbench. Books of fabric moved forward, to settle on a table while the seamstress looked over the pair.

“Similar dress robes with hints to her robes?” she asked the blond, and seemed to get into thought at his nod.

The fabrics that moved forward had her look over them as the seamstress seemed to consider them. The darker blues got her attention. It was a departure from green or garnet. 

Draco looked over her shoulder. “You do look good in blue,” he noted. He remembered that periwinkle dress she’d worn. It had pulled more on the lighter tones and closer to purple, but still.

“I do...and a darker shade would still compliment the both of us,” she mused aloud to not only him but the seamstress as well. Normally she did go closer to brighter shades for dresses or the loud color of her house colors. She’d already departed from that once already, might as well again. 

“Of course,” the seamstress agreed, pulling darker swatches and glancing over at her quill sketching options.

“Long sleeves,” Draco, said looking over the parchment. “It’s winter,” he amended with a bit of a shrug to his shoulders. Truthfully, he knew she would want to conceal the scar on her arm as much as he did the mark on his.

Looking at Draco with a bit of gratitude she smiled, agreeing easily to that. “Not a flared or flowing sleeve though I think,” she said as she watched the seamstress work out a sketch. 

Between the pair of them, and the gifted young woman catering to their requests, a more complete portrait came to be. A long elegant set of dress robes that would flatter Hermione. Draco had also put in a request to add some hand stitched trims that could be echoed in his own robes.

The elegant dress robes actually had her smile all the more and she felt a little strange knowing that she was going to be in something custom made. Again. 

With agreements on the sketches and a deposit set, Draco was glad to be done with that portion of their outings. They’d return in a few weeks for a fitting, and then by the party, all would be ready. At least he hoped so.

Hermione’s head was buzzing with other things she’d likely need to match with this dress that was being created for her. 

“Scrivenshafts?” he offered her as he held the door, trying to break whatever thoughts were forming in her mind. He didn’t want her to overthink things, at least not for the party.

Following him out of the shop she considered that. “I suppose I could use another quill,” she mused with a bit of a smile. At this point she seemed to almost collect them along with her books. 

“You can never have enough,” he smirked.

“I can’t, you’re right,” she chuckled with a slightly sheepish expression. 

As they walked forward, his elbow brushed against hers. To others it would have seemed accidental. It was anything but. He wanted to remind her he was there, at her side. That though he wasn’t holding her hand, or locking arms, they were here together.

Each brush of hands or their arms and occasional touches in public meant something, even if to others they’d think he was ashamed. It wasn’t that and she knew it, even if some of the things Pansy had said bothered her. 

Making their way into the shop, she started browsing the shelves with a more relaxed demeanor. Quills were fine to look at, there wasn’t that risk of having a small fortune spent on her over quills. 

There were few shops that didn’t make Draco feel like he wasn’t completely unwelcome. Though the welcome wasn’t as warm as it had been at the last shop, it wasn’t as stiff or cold as the front Rosmerta gave him, not that she could blame him. His gaze moved to the wall, looking over ink pellets. He could do with a few more.

Hermione’s gaze took her to a few different places. There was one rather ornate silver and garnet quill that she liked and did get for herself but there were also a few other items. Since she’d be graduating soon, a wax sealing kit would be useful to her after all as would a few more inkwells for her to write with. Like in a bookshop, it was easy for Hermione to get enthralled on what was around her. 

Between the pair, they seemed to rack up a number of items. Draco paid attention to what she looked at, to what she enjoyed. All ideas forming for what to get her for Christmas.

Colors for Hermione typically leaned more towards golds, silvers, lighter blues, reds, and the occasional purple, but she seemed to linger closer to greens and consider them as well now. She had rather liked the emerald shade she was in on Halloween after all. 

After moving through the shelves for a little while, she worked her way back to the counter, getting out her coin purse to pay for the items she selected. 

A motion Draco stopped. “Let me,” he offered gently, settling his own purchases down. It seemed like the least he could do.

That caused her to pause for a moment but she lifted a brow. “You’re already covering what we ordered at the other shop, aren’t you?” she countered gently as well, not used to having her partner want to pay for everything. 

He nodded. “It seems like the least I can do,” he said simply.

She lightly chewed at her bottom lip before she let out a slow breath and nodded her head. 

At the lack of resistance, he settled a small stack of galleons on the counter, which had the clerk behind the counter nod and begin packing their items away.

Hermione didn’t fidget but she felt a little...odd, letting him pay for everything like that. _The least he could do._ Was that because they had to hide they were dating? She had agreed to it after all. 

Once things were packed away, she picked up her parcels and offered a smile to Draco. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” he assured her, taking his own bag from the store clerk, and leading the way out of the shop to their next destination. It might have been corny, but now she’d think of him every time she wrote something down with one of those quills.


	43. Unraveling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains Ronsy. You may chose to skip it if that's not your jams. As always Dramione chapter will follow shortly <3

Pansy Parkinson was no stranger to putting effort. In fact, her excellence in scheming came from a lifetime of having to work hard for everything. Where the Penelope Clearwaters and Cho Changs of this world seemed to just glide on through with no care in the world, she’d had to put so much effort. Sleep wasn’t something she got much of on the best of days. Between studying, her duties, and just making sure she looked her best, her time was carefully calculated. Now, she had to add helping Ronald Bilius Weasley, of all people, to show a modicum of romanticism. It felt like she’d become the new Hermione to some extent.

They’d mostly written, thankfully, but here and there, she would reach out with the mirror. Though she would never say such a thing, they had spoken through the night quite a few times. Sat on her bed she fixed her curls to ensure they were bouncy. She wouldn’t dare look anything less than perfect. Even if it was just for the Weasel.

They’d agreed on eleven. With every minute ticking by, she grew anxious. It wouldn’t be long now. Of course, she had everything ready. The latest draft of his letter to Hermione prior to the party the following weekend. Still, her heart gave a flutter.

Holding up the small mirror, she murmured the incantation that opened the communication. “Ron?” she called, voice curt as she expected an immediate response.

Hearing the mirror speaking to him again, he sighed as he walked over to the bedside table where it rested. He pulled a shirt on and brushed his damp hair back from his face before he picked up the mirror. 

“Pansy,” he replied briefly in greeting, holding back a yawn. She looked...good. _Focus, Ronald._

The brunette watched him unimpressed. Rather than ask if she was bothering him she jumped straight to the task. “Hopefully you can be more pleasant this weekend,” she prodded. After all, it wasn’t such an attitude that would win his ex back. “Have you taken the latest updates into account? Hopefully you’re ready to send a little something before the party, preferably something she can wear.”

“I’ll be more rested this weekend so being pleasant won’t be a problem,” he grumbled. _Damn viper,_ he thought to himself. She was pushy and forceful and he had no clue how to really deal with her. Though if he was honest, he dealt with pushy and forceful women more often than he didn’t. A sigh left his lips though and he brushed through his hair with his fingers again. 

Looking at her as he shifted the mirror in his other hand he gave a slight shrug. “I’ve been thinking and I’ve got nothing, Parkinson. She doesn’t often wear jewelry and I can’t afford any sort of dress to rival what you’ve said Malfoy got her.”

It was driving Ron mad thinking that Draco was keeping Hermione in the shadows. She was a brilliant witch and she deserved to be celebrated by whoever she was with. Selfishly he wanted to be her wizard, but that was not the point! The point was that she was with a serpent that wasn’t treating her the way she deserved and he needed, no was required, to help one of his best friends. 

“Have you considered something as simple as a charmed corsage?” she asked, hating having to spell it out for him. “As I’ve told you, Draco will shower her with lavish gifts, which means you, Ronald, need to strike in a different manner…”

“Charmed with what, Parkinson? And you really think she’ll wear it with whatever your ex has planned?” His voice was almost sharp but he was trying to be calm, trying to come up with an idea. Because honestly his brothers were teasing him for messing things up with Granger anyway. 

With one hand she pinched the bridge of her nose, the other still clutching the mirror. “Find her favorite flower, turn it into a pin, something. Add something nice to it. Honestly, are you even trying?” she demanded. “I sent you books on courting, surely something in there resonated with you. Honestly, Ronald, I’m starting to think you enjoy my chiding.”

“Courting….you realize how stuffy of a tradition that is? Muggles don’t court and she was raised by Muggles. They date. It’s different." And he honestly wasn’t sure about Hermione’s favorite flower. It had never come up in conversation. 

“Not everything about courting is stuffy, and even if it doesn’t work for Granger, it will trigger Malfoy’s anger. If he made wild accusations towards you, do you think Hermione would take well to it?” 

A bath. She would take a bath after this to avoid a migraine. Perhaps even eat a macaron or three. She could always skip a meal or two to make up for it.

Ron almost scoffed. No, he was pretty sure all of it was stuffy. He didn’t have to court someone to be a gentleman. Being a gentleman like out of those old Muggle fiction books wasn’t exactly something he wanted to be either. 

“Probably not but he’d have to throw more of a fit than I did,” he muttered. What would get under Malfoy’s skin?

“Any level of fit will make him seem like he’s concealing a temper,” she said simply. And Draco Malfoy did have a temper. All that control came at a price, and she’d make him unravel if it was the last thing she did.

Ron actually snorted slightly at that. Weren’t they all concealing a bit of a temper? He knew Hermione was. But if he could get under his skin a bit then that would work out just fine. “So giving her anything will make him throw a fit?”

“It will at the very least spark enough jealousy to react the only way he can,” she stated simply. Old stuffy traditions, and Draco might have been trying to mend his ways, but nearly two decades of his upbringing wouldn’t be erased so fast.

“Fine….maybe…” he looked like he was actually thinking rather deeply about some options. Though he slowly started to smile. Maybe something to do with her patronus? It was something individualized to her and she had once told him that the type of dog his patronus was actually bred to track otters. So that was something that could be cute-ish...right? 

She watched that smile. “Are you going to share what’s making you smile like that?” she demanded.

“Aw, you’ve paid attention to my smile,” he drawled but he seemed to be working through the finer details of the plan he had, jotting something down on a piece of parchment to work out ideas before he spoke again. 

Pansy had to try not to roll her eyes. “It’s hard to miss."

“...Our patronuses complement each other...If I could get something that speaks to that but can still match what she’s wearing to Christmas? That might be enough to get under his skin even more and still mean something.” 

“I’ll make sure to make a snide comment about it,” she promised.

Ron gave a nod of his head at that, trying to come up with something that would work. Perhaps a charm or pendant that would go well on a bracelet or necklace? There were options.

"Try not to make it too easy for me to insult your work,” she warned him. “I suppose this is it until the party. If you make it early, we can go over some basics,” she offered. She wouldn’t have him ruin this if she could help it.

“I’ll make sure to get there early. Harry wants to get there so he can see Ginny before the party so that won’t be difficult,” he sighed as he actually pulled out a scrap of paper and grabbed a quill. The mirror got propped up against the ink well as he jotted down a few ideas for what to get Hermione. Hopefully she’d wear it. 

Pansy nodded. At least he seemed to be taking the task seriously. She bit back a retort in regards to the chosen one and his witch. There was no point to give the ginger any reason to fight her on her methods if she could help it. There'd be ample time afterwards to get back to her usual retorts.

Glancing back at the mirror he lifted a brow. “And what are you going to be doing other than making scathing remarks?”

“Ignoring Draco mostly,” she smirked. 

“That’s going to do something?” He lifted a brow. Wasn’t the point that she got her ex back, or whatever he was to her, and he got his back?

She stared into the mirror. “If I show interest, he’ll merely accuse me of meddling,” she said simply. “If, however, I find myself flirting here and there, well, he’ll let his guard down in regards to me. How could _I_ ever devise such a Machiavellian scheme after all.” 

A lifetime of being underestimated had left her bitter. Although everyone of her friends did eventually come to her for this exact sort of help, they often saw her as incapable. Especially when it came to them. As though their needs made them less useless and her less cunning. Still, some inclusion was better than complete ostracization. 

Ron almost snorted at that but he glanced at his jotted down ideas and got Pig to come over so he could tie a request for an otter pendant to his leg along with payment and a delivery address. “And mine just looks like a regular gift…” he mused slightly. 

At least he could follow some instructions. It offered the slightest bit of hope. Pansy shifted where she laid in bed, her chocolate curls fanning over her pillow and draping perfectly over her shoulder as she shifted to settle on her side, head propped on a dainty hand.

He nodded along as he followed that, but there was on question that circled back into his head. “So what basics do we have to go over?”

“With you? Everything. Honestly, if you think I won’t be going every last thing with you, we might as well meet the night before. I’m guessing you’ll be staying in Hogsmeade?”

“Why do you think you have to go over everything with me? And of course I’m going to be staying in Hogsmeade,” he said simply with a slightly furrowed brow. 

At that, she perked a perfectly shaped brow, flipping a few locks over her shoulder. “Honestly? You need all the help you can get.”

That made him give a slight roll of his eyes at her. “Your confidence is amazing. Must really suck having to rely on me here.”

“It’s nice that you recognize the depths of our situation,” she responded easily. “It’s the first step in getting better,” she teased. “Granger might actually thank me for making you an acceptable partner.”

“I think we both know I can already be an acceptable partner,” he drawled with an almost playful smile before he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re not working with a complete dunce, Parkinson. Would be nice if you could see that.”

Pansy eyed him. “How many times have you been dumped and how many times have you actually pulled the plug? Don’t even bother, I already know the answer…”

“I was dumped by Hermione but ended up ending things with Lavender,” he said carefully, feeling odd about talking about her after the war. 

“Please, you let it burn out, but she cut the cord in the end. Even she had more balls than you.” Pansy claimed, filing her nails.

“At least I had enough balls to fight in the battle of Hogwarts,” he countered, feeling only a little bad for bringing that up.

At that she dropped her nail file and glared. “Yes well, some of us were tied up for suggesting what your friend did any way,” she hissed.

“I can respect wanting to live, Parkinson, but you were more than willing to throw others under the bus. So what’s to say if this goes sideways you won’t just throw me under the bus?”

Pansy looked at him. “Please, there’s a difference between a Trolley problem and scheming.”

Ron looked back at her with a slightly raised brow but didn’t really question it. The fact she wouldn’t just throw him under the bus was shocking enough. Better to not look a gift hippogriff in the mouth. 

“Don’t look like I’ve poisoned you,” she chuckled. “I have very little to lose in this, and though throwing you under the bus could be amusing, it would be short sighted. We’re not in league, remember? So when you do arrive, I’ll send word on where to meet away from prying gazes and ears.”

“Away from prying gazes, huh?” He offered with a bit of a teasing smirk. Well, that sounded more inappropriate than she likely intended but he had to poke at it. 

“Oh ha ha,” she fake laughed. “As if either of us want to repeat _that_.”

Ron almost chuckled. If it was just the sex? He would be okay with a repeat. But he was trying to win back his girlfriend and Pansy was trying to make a point to her...What was Draco to her exactly? Other than just her intended he wasn’t sure what to really call them. 

“Goodnight, Ronald,” she said a bit more pointedly, as if silently warning him not to overthink it.

“Goodnight, Parkinson,” he said simply and muttered the spell that deactivated the little mirror just as he sent Pig off to execute his half of the plan.


	44. Indulging

Life in the castle resumed, all changes evolving into a sense of normalcy. Of course it never quite felt right. Routine could only go so far. It still didn’t change apprehension or fear. Something Draco was growing accustomed to sensing from others as he passed in the halls. He didn’t let it get to him though, and as always, he was more than willing to present a villainous front. Everyone coped differently, and so long as Hermione was at his side, seeing beyond the mask, what did it matter? Love had never been something he aspired towards in life. It was unbecoming of the Malfoy name.

Potions had had them working as closely as ever, their work extending beyond the hours in the classroom. They’d reached brews that required closer monitoring. Brews he’d done before, but didn’t mind repeating. It was the sort of work that made sense. Though potion brewing could be an art enjoyed in solitude, there was something to be said about the company. Every so often he allowed himself to indulge in a brush of hands as an ingredient needed to be added. 

As she passed Draco another ingredient, Hermione let her fingers linger on his a little longer as she glanced up at him. Part of her longed for that closeness but she hadn’t wanted to go from doing nothing to constantly indulging in everything he had to offer behind closed doors. As the holidays continued to draw closer though, she wanted to be closer to him again. 

It was something she knew she’d likely have to say and while words weren’t something she struggled with normally, she did in this situation. The characters in a few of the romance novels she read would never hesitate the way she did and yet each time she tried it just led into a different conversation. 

Slughorn came by, checking on their potion again with a smile before he moved on to make sure that Parkinson and Finnegan were doing alright on their potion. 

“Did you get the notice this morning? Our afternoon class is more of a study session than class,” she started. Casual conversation wasn’t uncommon between them during class, and this was a safe way to start leading towards that conversation. Subtle hints worked, right? 

He nodded. “We could get a lot of our work done then." It would help clear up their evening. 

Perhaps they could actually manage dinner. It had been hard for him to read between her lines. His experience had been so clear cut that this was a dance he was learning with Hermione. One that was becoming somewhat complicated. He would never pressure her, and never presume. If anything, he hoped perhaps they’d get a chance to speak, if he could even find the words for what it was he truly wanted. In his years, he'd never truly had to seek for such attentions.

“That’d be nice. We could even find some time to enjoy our evening then,” she continued off what he said and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. She’d likely have to be more explicit than that later but there was a light dusting of pink in her cheeks at the mere idea. 

While Hermione was getting better at hiding her feelings from others, certain things would still make her rage and would still make her blush. Things with Draco were still so new that the blush couldn’t be helped. 

“I’m sure we will,” his lips perked in a small smile. He could think of many ways to interpret that statement from reading by the fire to bending her over one of their desks. He tried not to linger on the latter. 

Hermione noted that small smile and relaxed a bit more as they stirred the potion. “So, we finish our work, get dinner, get patrolling out of the way, and have the evening to ourselves? Sounds much better than staying up pouring over books.” 

Hint number two, she hoped. When didn’t Hermione Jean Granger like reading books? When she had other things on her mind. 

Their potion was just the right shade of pink. Or so he thought to himself as she spoke. “Sounds like a solid plan." He wanted to say more, but the possibility of being overheard lingered. Surely she wasn’t propositioning him in class? Just more words to over analyze until the evening. “We should bottle this before it overcooks,” he said, producing two vials. 

Taking one vial from him she carefully filled it with the potion and then did the same with the second vial. “I’ll turn them in if you’ll clear our station,” she offered with a slight smile and the faintest pink in her own cheeks. At least it was paler than their potion. 

He agreed with a slight nod, still lost to his own musings. Cleaning up wouldn’t be any trouble. He’d even save two more samples for them. She seemed to keep a copy of their work as he did. Another habit they had in common. When she was off to present their work to the professor at the front of the class, he used careful swishes and flicks of his wand, like a conductor. Instead of music, items went back to their place, and remains of ingredients vanished into nothingness.`

She labeled both of their vials before moving to the front of the room and placing their samples in the indicated holder. They were the first ones done again, which wasn’t surprising, but she still felt rather accomplished. Once she returned back to Draco, she packed back up her own bag with a smile. 

A chime had them onto lunch where they parted ways to linger with friends. Pansy still refused to string more than three words his way, but Blaise helped keep some form of peace. Throughout the near hour in the great hall he couldn’t help the glances he risked towards the Gryffindor table. Discretion was key, it was why he remained seated, keeping up their conversation. He wasn’t daft enough to think Pansy hadn’t told Zabini, but thankfully the other hadn’t mentioned a word in regards to the weekend that had left his friendship with Pansy in shambles.

Ron and Harry clearly hadn’t said a word, Ginny only continued to tease Hermione a little bit about Slughorn’s Halloween party. No one else had anything to say about it thankfully. Neville still seemed concerned about her growing “friendship” with Draco, but it was easily contained. At least now no one had to hound her to eat. Especially not when she could feel a particular serpent’s gaze glancing at her now and then. She stole some glances herself, half wishing they could enjoy lunch together as well but she knew why it was this way. 

Luna was sitting at the Gryffindor table again, something that McGonagall had stopped trying to prevent, and stayed close to Hermione. Her free periods hadn’t been spent with her group of friends in awhile, and they assumed it was because she was arguing with Draco over their assignments. All the better. 

It felt like lunch had been longer than usual. Perhaps because he had to contend with the strain in his friendship, or because what he really wanted was to be where Luna Lovegood of all people, sat.

He’d been caught between reality and daydream when it came time to head to their next class, or lack thereof. Thankfully they had a session to discuss and sit together, without raising brows. Study halls were complicated but offered a chance to be able to be public all while not being so. He knew it wasn’t fair, and he hated it. As they perched over parchments, he let his knee brush against hers beneath the table.

Her leg pressed back into his gently as they looked over their parchment, settling a little closer to him so her thigh was flush with his. Nothing on her face gave anything away as she marked over a few things. While it was mandatory to show up to some of this study hall...she was hoping they’d only stay long enough that it wouldn’t raise suspicions and they could slip away. 

“Slughorn and Flitwick are rather satisfied with our work…though I have a feeling that Professor Winger is still being overly critical,” she murmured quietly for him alone, attempting to stay on task. 

He nodded. “Definitely.” Could he really blame the auror? Probably, but though he did publicly, he didn’t privately. It seemed the nature of the game. “Perhaps we should wait to work on the latest paper for Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he added. “Go to the library before our patrol,” he continued. Though the words were innocent enough, he put a bit more heat in the way he looked at her. How his silver gaze roamed over her.

The way he looked at her almost stole her breath as she glanced up from their assignment. Pink dusted her cheeks as she looked back at him and she gave a nod of her head. “...Might be best. We could use the extra books for the paper,” she agreed before slightly worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. 

“...We could leave study hall a little early…” she offered in hushed tones, sounding innocent enough. And who wouldn’t believe that Granger wanted to get ahead on getting books?

“Might be for the best,” he nodded. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to get started on it. He knew how Granger could get when it came to books, and getting them from the library before anyone else. A sobering thought.

Finishing up the line of what they had on a collaborative piece they were working on, she quickly and quietly started to put some of her things back in her bag. “It’s a good use of the study period,” she reasoned with a bit of a smile. 

That it was. Better than sitting around without truly getting anything done. Carefully, he put his things away alongside her, and eventually stood, adjusting his messenger bag and heading towards the door.

Once her things were packed away, she pulled her bag over her shoulder and followed after him quickly. A few people glanced up but it wasn’t uncommon that they’d leave study hall early. Just like it wasn’t uncommon that they were typically the first ones to finish class assignments. 

As every time they ended early, the halls were emptier than usual. Stragglers always lingered, usually the same culprits avoiding class, and lingering about. Presences that made it hard to steal those odd brushes of hands and kisses they so often found themselves sharing on patrol. Trying not to think of the intimacy he’d shared with Hermione Granger was taking its toll, not that he showed it in any way.

The library was nearly empty and while they were able to steal a few quick kisses, they were brief rather than something that could actually answer any of that longing that Hermione felt for him. They dropped things off in their quarters and then went on patrol. Things were quiet, leading up to the holidays they often were, and other than a few disturbances from Peeves they were able to complete their patrols rather easily. 

Once back from their rounds, Draco had made his way to their shared bathroom. If he was to hold her through the night he needed a shower to clear his thoughts and compartmentalize. A habit he’d picked up since their weekend in Hogsmeade. 

As he went and showered, she took the time to change in her room but didn’t stay there. Rather than wearing a pair of shorts, she pulled on a silver and red nightgown before going around the long way to his room. She settled back against his pillows, her heart hammering in her chest. 

In his haste for a shower, he entered his chambers in his usual silk robes. He expected to merely change as he so often did, only to find himself taken off guard. At the sight of her, his throat felt dry and any effort to hold back was dissipating once more.

“I could get used to this,” he drawled approvingly, keeping a few steps away from her as he took in the sight.

Looking up from a book she had been reading, she set it aside and looked over at him as her cheeks turned a light pink. “Oh? Remind me that I should do this more often then,” she half teased. 

Her heart was beating a bit faster again, but she couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. “We’ve been a little busy since Hogsmeade…” she drawled. 

Every step forward felt surreal. Many times he’d caught himself dreaming of moments like these, but he hadn’t believed it would happen. Not so soon at least. “We have,” he agreed, pausing at the side of his bed, his fingers lazily tracing up the exposed part of her leg, slowly raking the fabric up.

As he drew closer, she felt her heartbeat hammering in her chest as she watched him. There was anticipation and desire clear in her expression. 

Her breath almost hitched as he raked the fabric up her thighs, reaching out to the tie of his robe. “I wanted to give us a chance to...indulge, while we can,” she breathed as she leaned forward and brushed a few kisses along his jaw. 

Draco swallowed down, his free hand moving to stop her hand. “In good time,” he taunted, settling a knee on the bed to lean over her as he continued to draw up the fabric to her little red number.

A slight pout formed on her lips as she was stopped, but her heart felt like it might hammer out of her chest as he continued to draw the fabric up. “But you just have on the robe,” she tried to reason even as she blushed. The knickers she had on that started to peek at him shifting her dress matched the outfit she was in, a lacy red just like the nightgown. 

“Which is one less piece then what you’re wearing,” he countered, noting the lace he exposed. “Seems unfair to me…”

She chewed lightly at her bottom lip before she gave a nod, shifting up slightly and slowly stripped the nightgown off of her body. Letting the garment hit the floor, she flushed a bit more. 

At the new exposure he reached to cup her breast, palming it as he claimed her lips. There was a demand in his kiss, pushing her back on his bed as he climbed in with her.

A soft gasp left her before she kissed him back, moving back on the bed with him as her arms wrapped around him. Her heart felt like it would hammer out of her chest. 

Between meetings of lips he settled between her thighs, getting them settled on the bed with her. When he pulled back, he sat back to look at her, as though wanting to commit her to memory.

Looking back at him she couldn’t help the blush as she stayed leaning back into the pillows. “...What?” She asked softly as she looked at him. 

“Just enjoying the view,” he drawled, smoothing over her front, making his way to her undergarments to slip them off.

She took in a slow breath, arching off the bed slightly once he reached her knickers so he could guide them down her legs. 

At the assist, he took advantage of the motion to help remove the fabric. Once free from it, he gently placed her legs on either side of him. Draco lowered himself to kiss along the side of her neck. His hand found its way to her core, a finger slipping into her.

A breathy sigh left her lips as he kissed along her neck, her legs staying spread open for him as one hand gripped at his robe while the other gripped the bedding under her. “Oh,” she gasped softly.

“Mmm,” he sounded, enjoying that response. He wanted more. Wanted her to scream in pleasure. “I’m sure we can get you to do better than that,” he nibbled her ear, slipping a second digit into her, his thumb slipping over that pleasure point. 

A moan left her lips at that and her hips arched into his hand, her grip on him tightening a bit more. “You want me loud this time?” She breathed, cheeks flushed with a mix of desire, pleasure, and mild embarrassment. 

“Only if it’s real,” he murmured against her ear, giving a circling motion inside her.

Her hips arched into him a bit more and another sound left her lips, this one a bit louder than the last one before she lightly bit down on her bottom lip. 

Her cries were music to his ears. Something he wanted to recreate over and over again. “You like that?” He purred, encouraging her to be vocal. Communication could take good sex to much more, and he wanted everything and then some when it came to the brunette.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice just a little breathy as she looked back at him. That purr to his voice had her nearly shiver for him just as his touch did. There was a slight level of self consciousness to it but she trusted him, more than she thought she would. 

“Yeah?” he teased, enjoying the sight of her like this. That flush in her cheeks spurring him on to pull more sweet sounds from her. Did she realize how perfect she was? 

Hermione nodded her head, her grip on the bed tightening slightly. She had wanted this again, more than she thought she would have, and was clearly getting more and more aroused as he teased her. 

He dipped to wrap his lips around her nipple, suckling at her as he pursued his motions. 

The hand gripping his robe moved to his hair with another gasp that melted into a moan as her eyes fell closed. She felt certain he could hear her heart hammering away but he was making it hard to care about anything other than what he was doing to her. 

Every touch was an expression of his desire for her. Draco devoured her with every kiss and touch. It was hard not to shed his own garment and simply take her then and there. 

Shivers rolled through her body and she whined softly, she wanted more from him. Each touch driving up her desire and her pleasure at his experienced touches. 

Finally satisfied with how she felt there beneath him, he pulled away to look at her. With both hands to himself, he untied his robe and shed the silk fabric, casting it to the ground before returning on her. When his lips claimed hers, it was with a renewed hunger, his body pressing against hers.

Hermione only got to drink in his appearance for a moment. Even the scars from sixth year didn’t really bother her. Not with him. She pulled him close, their bodies flush together as she kissed him back eagerly, answering his hunger with her own. 

As they kissed, he spread her legs further, aligning himself to slip into her in a slow stroke. A groan fell from his lips as he filled her, one she seemed to match as she arched into him, grinding slightly to add just a bit more friction to the sensation without even thinking about it. That perfect warmth of her body was beyond welcoming. A sensation he enjoyed deeply. Arms wrapping around him as they kissed, she kept him close.

“Mmm,” he sounded praisingly, pinning her hip down to keep better control of her. Though he appreciated the enthusiasm, he took it upon himself to grind into her with every thrust. 

A louder moan left her and she almost squirmed in his grip on her hips. “Draco,” she called, voice breathy as she looked at him with flushed cheeks, her nails lightly digging into his shoulders. 

“Mione,” he echoed, enjoying those pin pricks in his shoulders. She was everything he could have wanted in a significant other. It killed him to have to hide her, to hide this, the chemistry that existed between them. With every motion he claimed her. Breathless and flushed, he kept that steady pace.

Pleasure rolled through her and the secrecy faded into obscurity while he was with her like this. Each touch was something she savored, indulged in. They couldn’t touch that often, which made this mean even more as she nipped at his bottom lip with a bit more of a smile before she kissed him again, muffling a cry in that claiming of lips.

Kissing her meant keeping statements said in the throes of passion under wraps. He knew he’d let his tongue slip if he wasn’t otherwise entangled. This was beyond anything he had fantasized in their prior years. His. She was his, and every muffled sound was for him.

Breaking the kiss for a deeper breath, she clutched at him and squirmed in his grip. She wanted to be able to respond more to him, though each grind had whimpers and gasps falling from her lips. He knew what he was doing, and she was grateful for it. How had she let them stay too busy to be close like this again?

Every squirm had shivers tingling down his spine, causing his fingers to dig a bit more into her hip as he continued to thrust into her. Though she gasped, she didn't ask him to stop. In fact, her hips writhing slightly to try and rock to meet him. It triggered something feral inside him. “You... feel so good,” he managed, nipping along the side of her neck.

Tilting her head for him, her fingers brushed through his hair, gripping him there as well. “So...do you,” she barely managed before she bit down on her bottom lip with a soft sound. 

Draco needed to kiss her as she bit that lower lip of hers. He needed to taste her, to have as much of her as he could. From her fingers digging into his hair to how she felt around his cock. 

Hermione kissed him back with a level of need that almost rivaled his as she clutched at his hair and her nails dug into his back. Each thrust that filled her had shivers rolling through her and she felt like she couldn’t get enough of him. With a bit of boldness that fit a lioness, she nipped at his bottom lip rather than hers before kissing him more deeply. 

Grinning against her lips, he nipped her back, grinding into her more firmly. He was drawing closer to his end, but he refused to cave to it until he felt her fall apart.

Her breath hitched further at the added friction, sounds muffled into their kiss. “Draco,” she cried as she broke the kiss to get a deeper breath, her head falling back against the pillows. Close, she could feel that building pleasure getting closer to driving her over the edge. 

What he would have given in his younger years to hear her call his name that way. Just hearing it had him strain. “Hermione..."

Her hips writhed in his grip again and she almost whimpered. Breathing uneven, hair tussled, and with lips red from their kisses she looked up at him. That build up started to bubble over and would have left her on a scream if she didn’t claim his lips in another heated kiss. 

Muffling her own cries of pleasure, her inner walls tightened around him as she clutched at him. 

That tight grip on his length had him spill as he crushed his lips against her. After a few more jagged thrusts he pinned her to his bed with his body, cupping her cheeks with both his hands as he stole a few more breathless kisses.

Kissing him back just as intensely, she gasped softly at how she was pinned. Her hand smoothed down his back as her fingers played in his hair as he held her face. Between kisses she tried to get deeper breaths, having no desire to move away from him in the least. Not after that. 

Forehead resting against hers he merely indulged in the moment. Where he would have already been in the shower with anyone else, every moment with Hermione was one he fully partook in. With a slow kiss to her cheek he gently rolled over, keeping her tangled with his limbs.

Easily moving with him she seemed rather content. A smile curved her lips and there was a nearly blissful expression on her face. Just like back in Hogsmeade, this moment was nearly perfect. A respite from everything they’d both been through...and she couldn’t help but get lost in that silver gaze.

There was something lazy and satisfied in his gaze as he took her in. The flush in her cheeks, the redness in her lips. She was gorgeous. It felt like an eternity past before he became more self aware. Soon it was his cheeks that were flaring with heat as his length clung stickily to his inner thigh. 

He wanted to apologize, to speak something, but he found himself at a loss for words.

The way his expression changed had her looking back at him with a slightly raised brow. Her fingers lightly stroked along his shoulder and up towards his neck. She was far too satisfied to properly think out what could have his expression change that much. 

Her calmness only had his heart hammering faster. “I’ve never been so careless,” he admitted, realizing that might not have been the right thing to say. “I…” his words were faltering, his mind too busy creating scenarios that made the prior year almost favorable.

That finally got her attention as she blinked and flushed a bit more herself. She had started taking the potion more as a backup to be extra careful. Leaning in, she brushed a kiss to his cheek. “..I started taking a potion after Hogsmeade...we’re alright,” she reassured, her fingers lightly trailing up and down his back. 

Though it was slightly reassuring it still made him feel like a git no better than Weasel. “I still should have…” he sighed. “It’s something we should have discussed. I apologize for not giving you much of a choice.”

Looking back at him she trailed her fingers down and along his jaw gently. “...We should have discussed it...but we got a little preoccupied,” she murmured, blushing a bit as she thought of that intense look he had. 

“If I had thought you’d react that strongly to me in your bed like that I might have thought to have that conversation beforehand…” not that she minded the intensity at all.

If the situation had been different he might have laughed at such a statement, instead he perked a brow. “You’re in my bed, how else would I react?” he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her lips. He knew if she continued like that, he’d be taking her all over again.

“Perhaps not as…eagerly? I’m not complaining though,” she breathed as she kissed down his neck again gently, staying close to him and nuzzling. 

Gently he combed through her curls. “I doubt that would be possible,” he spoke in a breathy tone.

She leaned into his touch and smiled a bit more. “Are you saying I’m that tempting?” 

“Very,” he answered, claiming her lips.

The mere idea made her shiver and she kissed him back, her fingers burying back in his hair. 

Draco deepened that kiss, rolling her back against the mattress. “I’d even go so far as to say irresistible,” he seized one of her hands to bring it against his semi hardened length.

Moving with him was easy, as was deepening the kiss. Desire was starting to coil right back through her and as he moved her hand, she stroked over his semi hardened length slowly with an almost devilish smirk. “Mmm, the feeling is mutual.”

“Is it now?” he asked, nipping along her jawline, considering just giving into his desires to have her again.

“Yes,” she breathed with a shiver before she nipped at his jaw with a slow grin. “Especially when you get this...look,” she admitted. 

He pulled back to look at her and brush her cheek. “And what look is that?” he asked, looking her over with hunger.

“That look,” she breathed, blushing just a bit as she leaned into his touch. It was almost like he could eat her alive and yet there was something more to it than that. 

“This one?” he asked, trying not to be self conscious about it. He devoured her with his gaze. Without even doing anything he already imagined being with her again. It was clear as day in his mind just how he could pleasure her, make her come undone for him.

Hermione’s breath hitched slightly as she flushed, pulled in by his silver hues as she tried not to let her heart hammer in her chest. “Yes,” she breathed. Even a hint of that look had her heart race and had her want to be closer with him. Like this. Her hand lightly squeezed his length as she kept his gaze, desire clear in her eyes. 

A groan escaped him as she seized him firmly, his hips rolling into her grasp. Tracing over her side, he reached her thigh and brought it over his hip.

A rather satisfied smile curved her lips at that, stroking over him slowly with that firmer grip, even as her thigh hitched up around his hips. This felt rather natural. 

Every motion she made was delicious. He enjoyed this newly emerging side of her, the way they could so casually lay and touch each other. As they touched and kissed, he rolled her atop him. 

Settling there, straddling him, she blushed a bit more but she kissed him again. This kiss was slower, a bit more emotion to it rather than just the heat of want and she slowly guided him between her legs, sliding against the hardened length of him with a soft gasp. 

It was a treat to see those lips parts, the soft intake of breath as she sank on him. Swallowing down he suppressed a shiver that threatened to rack his shoulders. From her hips, his touch moved upwards, tracing her sides and up her front. Like this, he could see where they met, the tautness of her stomach, how perfectly her breasts fit in his seize. When he finally met her gaze, it was with deep admiration and a burning passion. Still, he kept himself in check, keeping his hips from bucking with every lift of her body.

The way he looked at her built her passions further, had her breath catch and her heart hammer in her chest. She used her hands on his chest to help steady her as she lifted up off of him, only for her to sink back down onto him. The feeling of him filling her made her make soft sounds, her gaze caught in his once again. 

A groan of approval escaped him, grasping her chest a bit more firmly as her weight added so much sensation to his sensitive length. Reaching up, he pulled her by her cheeks, pulling himself up slightly to claim her lips.

That harder grasp had her moan and her nails lightly scored into his chest at that. When she came down, she ground against him with soft sounds of pleasure as she kissed him back. Not only passion was in that kiss, but more emotion than she dared put to words. 

A passion he gladly met and returned. He couldn’t speak his mind, but that didn’t mean his tongue couldn’t make claims of its own.

Her tongue responding to him in kind as her body bounded atop of his. He felt amazing and she felt wrapped in everything that was him. 

As they kissed, he took hold of her hips, keeping her steady and encouraging her motions. She felt so good, that warmth that enveloped him.

That encouragement was all she needed from him as she continued, her grip on him tightening just a little bit as well. Breaking their kiss for a deeper breath, she stayed close to him. 

He watched her, lips parted as he too struggled to breathe properly. His cheeks flushed lightly, that hunger still apparent in his silver hues as he devoured her with his gaze.

The way he looked at her had her keep going, had her keep her balance and continue to build them both up. It had her heart hammering in her chest but she couldn’t look away from him. 

A stare he couldn’t tear away from, even if he wanted to. Hermione was glorious like this, her locks like a lion’s mane around her face. Perfection. It was the word that came to mind as she rode him this way, teased him with every rise and fall. Soon she would pull the apex of pleasure from him, he knew it, could feel it coiling in his gut.

Soft moans left her lips, the brunette lioness breathless as she rode her partner. He felt amazing and she could feel that pleasure building up to a fever pitch, nearly throwing her over the edge. Her body almost trembled with sensitivity. “...Draco,” she gasped his name as she looked at him, grinding down once more before her inner walls tightened around him and she almost cried out her pleasure. 

That collapse around his sensitive length pulled his pleasure from him. His eyes closing as he felt his body clench and crisp. A soft sound of pure bliss escaped him, his fingers digging into the soft supple flesh of her hips in a near bruising manner. “Mione,” he managed.

A gasp left her at that bruising grip but she didn’t complain, grinding against him once more before she slowly lifted off of him and instead moved to settle on his chest, pressing kisses to his jaw. Her expression showing just how blissful she felt...she felt amazing. 

Releasing his seize on her, Draco tucked her against his chest. He needed that proximity, craved it. It was terrifying, and yet he felt elated by their intimacy. 

As he held her close, Hermione sighed as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. If she wasn’t careful….she’d say things that had no business being said at all this early. 

Gently, his fingers combed through her curls. Soon enough they’d have to get up and wash off, but for the time being he merely enjoyed the proximity.

Her eyes slowly fell closed, her smile never waning as her fingers traced along his shoulder and down his arm. This intimacy with him was something that she could see herself getting used to.


	45. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronsy Chapter below. As always, a Dramione chapter will follow if you wish to skip it <3 We've set up Ronsy so it enhances the story, but also can be skipped without affecting it. 
> 
> Also, happy thanksgiving to our American readers. We do love a good ritual sacrifice with pie. As such, we'll be spoiling y'all with extra readings while you digest all those extra servings of delicious sides.

Getting out of the castle in the dead of night hadn’t been hard. Especially with Ginny sneaking out the same way again giving her opportunity to do so herself. She’d brought a bag along with just about everything she could need. Honestly, she had no idea what to expect with the ginger, but she was hopeful he had learned _something_ from their discussions. Rather than risk being overheard, she had gotten herself a room at the Three Broomsticks and waited for his arrival at the bar. As she did, she’d gotten herself a bottle of bubbly to celebrate. After all, this time tomorrow, they would have broken up Hermione and Draco, and would get on with their lives. Simple as that.

Ron was arriving a little bit later than what he would have liked to the Three Broomsticks. Luckily, he had had the forethought to actually make a reservation this time so that he wouldn’t have any sort of room mishaps. That was the last thing he wanted or needed. 

His bag was over his shoulder as he walked into the Three Broomsticks, ignoring the fact that he saw a flash of red hair already going up the stairs. He ran his hand down his face and went to the bar, ordering himself a glass of Firewhiskey. 

It wasn’t hard to spot him when he took a seat. Pansy didn’t move just yet. “Of course you’re here,” she drawled, sipping her flute of champagne. "Explains why your sister snuck out." The eyeroll and shoulder shrug were second nature when mentioning any member of the Weasley clan. “I’ll be taking this up to my room,” she told the barkeep, using the distraction to send a copy of her room key to his pocket. She hoped he had the sense to finish his glass before joining her.

Rolling his eyes at Parkinson’s jabs, he glared over at her without a word, a show in self control that he’d have to use at the Yule party. He took his time to chat with Rosmerta, actually inquiring about how business had been and if the students from the school were behaving as they should. Once he finished his glass of firewhiskey, he ordered another but took the glass to the stairs, going up like he was going to his room for the night, but instead went to the room number that was on the second key in his pocket. 

She was nearly halfway through her bottle by the time he made it to her quarters, causing her to greet him with a huffed “it’s about time.”

“I wanted to make it believable. If I left _right_ after finishing it’d be weird,” he drawled as he made his way in and closed the door.

“At least there’s that,” she agreed. “Now, show me what you’ve got,” she said, sitting on the bed and ceding the floor as she sipped her flute of bubbly. “Robes, gifts, all of it.”

He managed not to sneer at that as he put his bag down on the table and opened it. Pulling out the garment bag of his dress robes, he opened it enough for her to see inside. They were dark blue and gold, matching Hermione’s due to Parkinson’s intel but not so much that it was out of the norm for him. “Well, here are the dress robes.”

At that she stood, settling down her glass to get a better look. She ran a finger over the fabric. “Not bad,” she half praised. “It’s nice to see you won’t be a lampshade this year.”

Gritting his teeth some he took in a slow breath before exhaling it. “Thanks, I suppose. I have my own money right now due to the job,” he said with a slight shrug of his shoulders before he got out the small box and passed it over to Parkinson. It was a charm that matched Hermione’s patronus. 

“Such a big man,” she countered, taking the box and sitting back down to examine it. 

With the box in her lap she reached for her wand to lift it up to study it.

“Oi, not every Pureblood family has money. There were quite a few kids to take care of,” he almost snapped, clearly still touchy about his family. 

“Manners are free,” she reminded.

“You weren’t talking about manners, you were mocking me being a lampshade and I assumed you meant my robes,” he said as he looked right at her. 

She looked at him. “If you rise at every snide remark I make, then you might as well give up now.” She carefully set the bracelet back in its box and stood to hand it back to him. “Do you think you won’t be prodded, poked, and provoked?” she demanded. “And yet still, at every chance, you take it personally rather than deflect.” Pansy didn’t pull away, standing unnervingly close, almost demanding him to rise. 

“I haven’t started screaming, now have I? And that’s more about my family, Parkinson. I’ve been bantering back with you for the most part, haven’t I?” He stood his ground and looked down at her with a slight raise of his brows. 

“You give too much,” she said simply. “You could have deflected by calling out my lack of change. You’ll need every inch of higher ground. And yes, you have been somewhat decent at keeping up with my banter,” she acknowledged. 

“Well, at least you can acknowledge that. I half thought you’d deny it,” he muttered as he looked at her, but he nodded his head and made a mental note of that. 

She studied him for a moment, taking in the softer tone, the way he looked at her. “At least someone wants my approval,” she said gently. Just as quickly, she turned to get her glass and bring it to her lips. Swallowing down a sip of bubbly to conceal the realization that if they did succeed, it wasn’t something she’d likely ever feel again. Not truly. 

“It’s more you seem more skilled at this sort of...interaction than I am,” he countered. He wasn’t the most skilled at manipulation if he was honest and he was glad for it. Gryffindors weren’t really meant to be all that cunning. 

“The bracelet is...nice,” she forced out. It wasn’t uncommon for her to stammer on compliments. She wasn’t used to giving them, or receiving them for that matter.

“I...thanks,” he answered with a bit of surprise, his hand reaching to the back of his head. 

Rather than risk words she made a hum of a sound she’d learned from her mother. Reaching for her glass she sipped at the bubbles again, enjoying the soothing tingle they gave her. It took a few moments before she broke the silence again, and she was grateful that he didn't try to speak. Not yet, not while she prepared herself for this next step. It was a necessarily evil, one she knew she was going to despise, but all in the sake of freedom. Tomorrow, the redhead would be another's problem, and Draco would be hers to torture.

“I guess now we should go over what you plan to tell Granger,” she added polishing off her glass with her back to him. “Pretend I’m her…” The words were almost painful to speak. It made her glad she wasn’t facing him, allowing her to close her eyes a moment.

He actually winced at that and he studied Parkinson. “...I can tell you what I plan but I don’t think I can pretend you’re her...you’re quite different. Not sure how someone could,” he tried to recall what he had planned to say as he looked at her. 

That hurt more than she would care to admit. “It’s nice to know your eyes and brain are somewhat functioning...tonight” she returned. “Take another drink, maybe you’ll see the resemblance..."

“I was drunk and it was dark. But after talking to you? Yeah…the only thing you have in common is the fact you’re both strong and sort of bossy,” he chuckled as he took another drink of his Firewhiskey and shook his head. “I plan on apologizing for my rash behavior, for being pushy, and pointing out that I just want to see her happy.”

“That’s a good start,” she agreed. “Are you going to try anything else?” 

“I’m going to try and point out how close we’ve been. If Draco actually starts throwing a fit I can use that to my advantage.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Anticipating every possible scenario was a gift and a curse. In this case, she hoped the former.

“Then I’ll try to be careful to make connections for her to realize I care more for her.”

She nodded. “Good. You might just succeed,” she added honestly. Perhaps she was hopeful, but they both needed this to work.

“I’ve worked with mights for years. They haven’t hurt me yet,” he chuckled. Clearly filled with all of that Gryffindor confidence. 

“I suppose you have,” she said. “I guess we’ve covered everything,” she added, which seemed unlikely. They had been practicing and preparing for some time. “By this time tomorrow, we’ll be on our own paths,” she lifted her glass.

Lifting his glass, he clinked it lightly to hers and took a drink of the Firewhiskey before he chuckled. “You know Parkinson...you haven’t been a complete terror to work with.”

“Don’t tell that to Seamus,” she sipped her drink to conceal her smile. “Though he’s truly the terror,” she shrugged. She had needed three times the potions for her hair to avoid split ends.

That actually made Ron grimace slightly. “You’ve had to work with Seamus? In which classes?” He couldn’t help but ask with a little bit of horror to it all. 

“Potions. I never knew Peace Draughts could explode.” 

“We also didn’t know that a feather could explode using a levitation spell in first year,” he sighed with a shake of his head but he couldn’t help but grin a bit in amusement. 

That was true. “Needless to say, it’s been a nightmare.” She sipped at her drink and realized it was empty again. At least she had that buzz keeping her steady as she poured herself another glass. 

Ron actually laughed a bit at that. “Well….you look fine all things considered. Not losing any limbs or large chunks of hair.”

“Then perhaps you’re not looking close enough,” she said simply. It took a lot of work to offset the damages inflicted by Finnigan.

“Is that an invitation to move closer without the risk of getting hexed?” He teased with a bit of a smirk. 

She perked a brow. “Is that what keeps you so far away?” she asked, seemingly rather pleased by the assessment. “I’m good, but I do currently have my hands full to be hexing you,” she held the bottle and the flute up.

Ron almost snorted. “Mostly, yeah. You’re a capable witch. A bit catty and a bit of a bitch at times...but a capable witch. Good to know you won’t wandlessly curse me either,” he half taunted before he leaned in to study her face and her hair. 

“And risk this bubbly? You’d have to really cross a line for _that_ ,” she sniffed, settling the bottle down as she realized he was actually looking at her.

“Ah, I see. Must be really good...bubbly,” he couldn’t help but feel out of his depth. He didn’t really know anything about bubbly drinks but here he was, talking with Parkinson of all people about them. 

"It is." Slowly, she turned to face him, lashes fluttering as she blinked. “You think I’m capable?” she asked. It wasn’t something she was often told. She knew it, but it wasn’t something she ever thought another, let alone a wizard, would openly acknowledge.

The question had him blink a few times. “Yeah? Are you daft?”

“I most certainly am not,” she snapped. No, he wasn't worth the rise. Not yet. 

“Well then why ask a dumb question? I thought you were smart,” he said simply with a raised brow.

“Would you like a glass, we are celebrating aren’t we?” she shifted the topic. It didn’t matter what Draco or anyone thought, she would have them fooled and that would work just fine.

“I...suppose? Can’t say I’ve had much bubbly. Had some at Bill’s wedding...but that was it.”

She transfigured his tumbler into a fine flute, taking a moment to pour him a glass so she could collect her thoughts. “I’ve had to fight for everything,” she turned to offer him the glass, meeting his gaze for a moment. “I’m used to being looked over, underestimated, and mostly, ignored,” she replied. “You aren’t exactly the most seemingly attentive wizard,” she reminded in a tone that wasn’t her usual offensive. “So yes, it surprises me that you’ve taken a few moments to think beyond the litany of insults we’ve shared.”

A bit of a snort left him at that but he sighed and took the glass as it was offered, thinking a moment. “We have that in common. I’m the youngest boy, and had to push just to be seen really. Not that my parents don’t care...but they have a lot of kids to keep track of. Bill and Charlie, Percy, George, and then Ginny. But you’re a skilled witch….better grades than me in the classes we shared,” he stated before taking a sip from the flute. 

Pansy took a sip and swallowed down what she wanted to say. “My parents wanted a boy,” she said simply, it was the easiest way to explain it.

Ron actually chuckled. “Mine wanted a girl and kept going till they had Ginny. But if they can’t see you’re capable on your own? Then they’re blind. Like I said, you’re as proud and as stubborn as a Hippogriff but you’re bright….or cunning. Cunning’s a Slytherin thing, right?”

“We also know our true friends, but people tend to forget that part,” she added with a roll of the eyes. “I don’t think they’re blind so much as resent that our line is extant, and will die with me in name.” There was a reason her parents hadn’t been the most vocal in the wars, and yet, they had done what they’d needed to survive. She sighed. “It’s complicated,’ she shrugged, an arm falling across her core. “Though I suppose you do have bravery and what was it? Irrationally ready to just throw themselves in harm's way on a whim?” she teased.

“Is that what you call courage? Or is that daring?” He bantered back as he took another sip from the flute as he shook his head and looked right back at her. “Well...you have seemed rather close with Zabini, Nott, and Malfoy. So I suppose that’s true….and ambition seems to be in your wheelhouse,” he drawled, but not like it was an insult this time. 

“You like it?” she asked, noticing him seemingly enjoying the drink. She did have friends, close friends, but beyond Zabini, she was certain most would flock to Malfoy. And even then. She’d always feared being alone, and it seemed she was well on her way to it.

“It’s nice. I think I prefer the Firewhiskey, but this is nice,” he nodded. He couldn’t really complain about the drink. The only thing he still wanted to complain about was the fact it seemed like a lot of lions were dealing with serpents more and more.

Somehow it didn’t surprise her. “I like variety,” she found herself saying, blaming the alcohol for being so forward. It wasn’t like he cared what she liked. “A good martini,” she made a pleasurable sound. 

That was a sound that was rather familiar after that accidental night they had spent together. He cleared his throat and simply sipped at the flute again as he gathered his thoughts. What was he even supposed to say to that? “Can’t say I’ve had a martini before. Sounds like you have a lot of experience with alcohol.” 

“My parents never denied me so long as I didn’t embarrass them,” she shrugged. It had seemed a fair exchange, but now she wondered what it was like to have a warm family. 

“Huh...mine was a bit more strict,” he admitted with a bit of a chuckle. 

“I mean my father is strict, but he’d have to be home to actually enforce anything,” she chuckled darkly. “Mostly it was just me and Flora.”

“My dad worked a lot, but Mum was always home. She was a bit more strict than Dad,” he chuckled lightly. 

“Your mother didn’t work?” she asked.

Ron laughed. “Oh no, not with how many kids there were to look after. She...she was in the Order during the first war. Got less involved as her kids were born.”

At that she merely nodded. Unlike many other Purebloods like Narcissa, her mother had worked. And handled charities. Honestly the woman had nearly made it a point to never be home. “That must have been…” she wasn’t even sure how to express it. “Something.” 

“It made it hard to get away with anything. Literally anything, but Mum was always there if we needed her. It was nice,” he explained with a chuckle. “Though Ginny and I got the worst of it after the twins…”

“Can’t imagine why…” she responded in an undertone. Fred and George had been something else, that was for certain.

A bit more of a smile curved his lips, but there was something sad to it. “...I can. So I don’t blame her. They were a menace together.”

“That’s a diplomatic way of putting it,” she scoffed lightly.

“It is but they’re my brothers,” he pointed out. 

Even that was foreign to her, but she liked to think she understood. “I guess.” 

“It’s...it’s just a siblings thing. They’re nuts but they’re yours so they can sorta get away with it,” he chuckled with a slight shrug. 

“I see,” she replied. To an extent she got that. Malfoy and Blaise were hers to pick on, and sure sometimes she wanted to chuck them across the room.

Finishing his glass of the bubbly he nodded his head. “Friends can be like that too,” he said with a slight smile, figuring where she likely got that I see from, at least if she actually got it. If she didn’t then he had no clue.


	46. Yuletide Cheer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hoped you gobbled til you wobbled, here's a bit of dramione to help you digest!

Hermione was getting ready for the dinner, sifting through the gifts she kept getting. He was spoiling her rotten and she wasn't sure what to make of it. If it had been nothing more than a shower of books she might not have felt so out of her depth. Instead she was getting shiny baubles and treats, though the treats were appreciated. What wasn't appreciated was the note that came with what she had assumed the dress and....underthings. Underthings that tuned in to another person's magic and....well. Apparently simulated vibrations or...other things. According to the box. Still in a pair of shorts and a tank top, she marched across their tower and right into his quarters. Stood in heated aggravation, she held the note and the box. 

"Are you mental?"

Draco wasn’t unaccustomed to her jabs when gifts were sent to her quarters. With the party that night, he had quite a few lined up, and though he could think of a few that might have caused a bit of a fuss given their worth.

“It’s the necklace isn’t it?” he asked. "I figured it was a bit much, but..." he continued as he slowly turned to face her, and paused in his train of thought as he noted the note and box she was holding. Obviously he hadn't sent it, but it had lead her to his chambers. "What’s that?” he asked.

“It’s…” she blushed a bit and handed him the box, the description on the side easily telling what it was. “Something that came with the dress and a note.”

Draco seized the note and recognized his own penmanship, though not anything he had written in recent months. “Ah,” he ran a hand through his hair. “That would be…” he began and tried to think of a way to even begin to explain. “I didn’t send it to you,” he began and realized that wasn’t much better. “Would you believe me if I said Pansy is behind that?” he asked.

“Why would Pansy send this? Or even know you were sending me things other than the dress,” she murmured, trying not to fidget. She had seen another small box that she hadn’t unwrapped yet, afraid of what else could be in it after opening the last one.

He settled the box and note on his desk and grabbed a book he hadn’t gotten a chance to wrap. “I had planned to give you this for Christmas,” he responded instead. “It might help clarify some things,” he offered. Perhaps he was a little too textbook in some respects. Still, nothing about Hermione felt traditional. Rules were set for a reason, and despite his need for them, there was something exhilarating about breaking most of them when it came to his Gryffindor lady.

Hermione took the book and gave him a look before looked over the book. It seemed to be...a book on courtship? Furrowing her brow, she started to open the book and actually flip through it. “...I..courtship?” She asked carefully as she glanced up at him, her brown eyes meeting his silver ones.

“Is that a problem?” He asked. He had let it slip before. 

“How...seriously do wizards take courtship?” She asked carefully in reply, feeling her heart start to speed in her chest as she read over some of it. All of the gifts made a bit more sense now: the complimentary formal attire, the thoughtful gifts, the attentiveness. 

Draco watched her, knowing he feared speaking the end game out loud. “Seriously,” he admitted. “Normally the intention is to wed,” he didn’t shy from it as a hypothetical. “I’m not asking you to marry me,” he offered instead. What he didn’t say was that he also wasn’t discounting it either. It was crazy, it went against everything his family stood for, and yet, wasn't this the proverbial second chance?

Hermione’s heart was hammering in her chest, she could hear it right in her ears. “So a little more serious than just...casually dating,” she murmured, slowly closing the book in her hands. “...But you’re seeing how we would fit,” she supplied carefully. 

He hadn’t expected such an answer, but she wasn’t wrong. Draco smiled. “Yes,” he spoke, adjusting his tie. They weren’t usually out there in public view, but Slughorn’s parties seemed to be one expression of their budding relationship after the other. Still, she hadn’t said whether or not that was problematic.

“...That isn’t a problem,” she breathed, closing the space between them to kiss his cheek gently. 

At the feel of her lips on him, he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. “Good,” he mouthed more than spoke, relief washing over him. Still, he fought the urge to bring her into his chest.

The word barely registered with Hermione, and yet she couldn’t help the light smile as she pulled back enough to look at him. “Is the small box with the dress from you though? Or should I expect more interference from Parkinson?” 

“From me,” he promised, brushing his lips to her forehead. 

That light kiss made her relax lightly as she gave a nod of her head. “I’ll finish getting ready then,” she murmured as she paused and then kissed him gently.

He kept her a few seconds longer, needing that proximity. “See you soon,” he answered, knowing he too would need to get into his dress robes to face yet another party. After their first one together, he could only imagine what this one would mean for them.

A small smile curved her lips as she drew away from him, going back into her own room with a shut of the door. The dress was lovely after all, like the night sky and starlight in a way and she quickly changed into it, using her wand to carefully take care of all of the fastens. Her hair was left down this time, just some of it clipped back from her face and the sleeves covered her scar so there wasn’t anything to worry about there. That small box gave her some pause though. 

Picking it up, she carefully opened it to see a small lion pendant as well as a serpent that were layered over each other. The serpent sat atop the lion, almost a choker for the serpent while the lion hung lower. With a smile she put on the necklace carefully and checked the mirror. There was a small parcel there as well, one from Ronald, which made her pause. Carefully, she opened that one as well. Inside, a little bracelet charm with an otter sat nestled in velvet. Her own patronus. She couldn’t help but smile just a little bit. Normally she didn’t wear much jewelry but she checked to see if she had any small bracelets she could attach the charm to. Once she found one, a thin thing, she put the little otter on it and put the bracelet around her left wrist. It was a silver chain with that lovely silver otter charm. It was quite thoughtful. 

Once he was done fixing his hair, and straightening his dress robes, Draco made his way to the common area of their tower, waiting for his date by the mantle. Christmas was looming, and he had been postponing announcing his decision to stay at the castle which sat in his breast pocket. It was something he planned to send his parents after the party, a last gift for his date. Though he liked to think it gave him an option to change his mind, that wasn't why he was delaying it.

After she checked herself twice more she misted just a bit of perfume and walked through the mist so it just lightly clung to her before slipping on her heels and striding down the stairs. Her wand was tucked into a pocket inside of her sleeves and she felt her heart hammering a mile a minute. Once she moved into the common area of their suite of rooms, she couldn’t help but smile. 

“The seamstress outdid herself,” she murmured as she looked at him. 

At the sound of her voice, he turned to face her, a smile spreading on his lips. “She did,” he agreed. “She had quite the model to work with.” Perhaps he was biased, but she had always been quite the sight. Even when he suggested otherwise. Hermione was breathtaking, and the dress robes she wore only highlighted her beauty. “I see you found my gift,” he drew closer, brushing the length of the gold chain around her neck.

“I did. It’s rather clever,” she chuckled as she almost shivered. Hermione’s heart was beating fast and with him touching the chain at her neck she hoped he couldn’t feel just how hard it was beating. 

Leaning forward he pressed a light kiss beside her lips. “Just like you,” he smirked. “Shall we?” Draco offered her his arm. If they left now, they’d be on time, which was better than late. The last thing he needed was the rumour mill starting up again. As much as he despised having his name on others lips, he would be lying if he claimed it bothered him to hear it alongside hers.

Hermione took his arm with a bit more of a smile and a nod of her head. “Absolutely...we’re already going to cause quite a stir,” she chuckled lightly. Ginny even said there was a surprise involved which was going to be interesting. 

“Doesn’t take much to cause a stir these days,” he drawled, suppressing a smirk as he led her down from their tower. “Though I suppose tonight might cause more issues than usual given your friends have been invited.” He’d heard the rumours that the chosen one and his sidekick showing up, or rather, it was all the school had buzzed about for the past week. A nice reprieve from their own lives, and yet, aggravating.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine and Harry will….Harry will adjust,” she said as they walked down the stairs. Ronald though? She wasn’t sure how Ronald would react to it all. 

That shift in her voice made him place a gentle hand on hers. “I’m not worried of their opinion,” he assured her. “I worry for you,” he said honestly. How it would make her feel. It was hard to be torn between friends and desires. Even his current friends felt further away at times. He knew he was to blame for it, something he planned to make amends for once he was home, perhaps for New Years.

“I’ll be alright. Harry seems supportive of what makes me happy,” she explained as they moved past the Great Hall and to the stairs that led down into the dungeons. “Ronald is a bit more...judgemental. What did we fight for if not to make things like this possible?”

Suppressing a laugh, he held back his tongue. “It’s always easier said than done."

The Malfoys weren't any more accepting of new norms and societal laissez-faire. If anything, they were just quiet about it, recluse. Their fall to shame with the war hadn't helped, but his family persisted, as many like minded families did. His father had begun tinkering with magical items again, his mother poured her efforts into anything she could think of to restore some semblance of normalcy, and his betrothal to Pansy Parkinson had been intact. Of course, that had all the changed the night she had come barging into their room with Ron in tow. In his years begrudgingly accepting his fate, he'd never been presented an alternative before.

Hermione lightly tightened her grip on his arm and glanced up at him as they stepped down into the dungeons. “...This feels pretty easy to me though."

“It is,” he agreed, though for how long, he couldn’t quite say. “It’s easy to get caught up in the fight is what I meant, unlearning everything…” he began and shook his head. “The feud between the Weasel’s family and my own go back some time…”

A slight sigh left her lips at that but she glanced back at Draco. “True...but you were taught to hate Muggleborns and yet,” she offered as an alternative, looking a little nervously at the door ahead of them that would lead into the classroom and the office. 

She was right. He knew that she was right, and yet he had spent nearly a decade struggling with it. “It’s more complicated than that,” he reminded gently. _The heart wants what the heart wants._ It was the thought he held back on his tongue.

“Us or the dispute with the Weasleys? Because Ginny didn’t seem to have a problem,” she reminded him as they lingered right outside the door for a moment. 

“Maybe a bit of both?” he smiled and paused just down the hall from the party. “You ready?”

Hermione laughed softly at that but then took in a deep breath and gave a nod of her head. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied and stepped forward with him into the party. 

Arm in arm he led them to the chambers reserved for the festivities. Inside the normally damp chill of the dungeons was replaced with a warmth only Horace Slughorn could bring to the place. The coldness of stone covered in carefully crafted tapestries depicting yuletide cheer. Bunted garlands hung above them, and a roaring fire burned in the oversized hearth, happy golden flames licking at the walls with a crinkle and crackle. Several students already stood inside, discussing over a cup of cider or eggnog. A chatter that seemed to lower as the pair entered the quarters.

Draco held his head high, ignoring the shift and the apparent glares. Regardless of how the student body took their appearances together at these events, he wasn’t ashamed of having a bright and beautiful witch on his arm. Quite the contrary.

Hermione followed his lead, even if there was the faintest pink blush that colored her cheeks as she kept her chin up. This wasn’t the whole student body but rumors would start to spread faster than dragon pox. It didn’t matter though. She was with him willingly and Draco Malfoy was a man that had changed, clearly.

Though before they could potentially find a place to mingle, Ginny strode over with Harry, a bright smile on her face. “I was so hoping that what happened on Halloween would repeat itself this way. Told you Harry, you owe me two sickles,” she bantered with her date. 

Harry held back a sigh. “Of course I do,” he chuckled lightly, a sound that was short lived as he looked at the pair before him. “Hermione,” he greeted with a tentative smile. “Malfoy,” he offered, trying not to let his voice strain, though that was impossible. Despite everything that had happened, he tried to remain civil, if only to be able to keep Ron in line.

“Hi Harry,” she greeted with a small smile as she stayed on Draco’s arm. “..I’m guessing Ron is around somewhere...I can thank him for his Christmas gift in person then I suppose.”

“Last I saw, he was talking to Luna and Neville by the drink table,” he offered, hoping this meant there would be peace between his friends again.

There was the slightest shift in Draco at hearing she’d received a gift, but he pushed it down, or rather swallowed it down.

It was almost like mentioning the gift had summoned Ron from wherever it was he had been, though upon closer inspection it looked like he had been speaking some with Professor Slughorn. 

“Ah, so Pig delivered it alright? That’s good. And it’s good to see you, Hermione,” he greeted with a small smile and didn’t even glance at Draco. He was a little tense but he seemed much more calm than the last time they were around Ron Weasley.

A slight chuckle left her at that. “I’m assuming so. I never saw Pigwidgeon, but I recognize your handwriting,” she smiled and brushed back her sleeve, showing the bracelet she had placed the charm on. “It’s lovely. Glad you remembered my patronus.”

Pansy had been lurking about, drink in hand as she moved in to greet the youngest Malfoy. “Draco,” she demurred, turning her sights on the exposure of a small charm. “And what’s your patronus, a ferret?” she demanded in a laughing drawl. “Suppose it’s fitting,” she flicked her gaze to the blonde man.

“At least it’s not a bitch,” Draco gritted to his ex. “French bulldog is it?” he bit into the words. If he couldn't take his anger out on the ginger, he could at least indulge in the brunette that had tried to cause strife earlier with a package.

Hermione focused on Ron with a small smile. “Yours still a Terrier?”

Ron nodded his head with a bit of a smile. “No reason for it to change. We still match. Only one that doesn’t match at all is Harry,” he teased with a grin. 

Every word that came out of Ron’s lips had Draco tense with aggravation. “Small yappy dogs, you also match Pansy,” he attempted to shrug it off, but he couldn’t. It didn’t sit well, none of it did.

“Bite your tongue, Malfoy,” Pansy hissed. “Is yours still a ferret?” she demanded.

Any other day, he might have cursed her right then and there. This was a new era. Or so he tried to tell himself. “I need a drink,” he turned to the witch at his side. “Would you like something?” he asked, trying to find an excuse to leave. At least for a little while.

Hermione nodded her head and discreetly squeezed his arm as she stood there with him. “Whatever you’re having is fine,” she offered with a slight smile, easily helping facilitate his escape. 

His gaze met hers, colder than he had wished. The price of occlumency was detachment. As such, he was off without a word. A few steps had him out of earshot, giving him a chance to regroup. No, he couldn’t have another outburst, and yet, he wanted to curse Pansy, and Ronald along with her. Thoughts he cast aside as he filled himself a cup.

Ronald looked over at Draco briefly and then looked back to Hermione with a bit more of a smile as Ginny rolled her eyes. “A little touchy, huh? I heard a professor referenced that…incident from fourth year.”

“We aren’t talking about that, Ron. I do appreciate the gift though,” she smiled and before she could say anything more, Slughorn made his way over. 

“My, my! The Heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts, reunited again! Wonderful, wonderful!” He chimed brightly as he looked between Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Ignoring Pansy in favor of the Golden Trio and Harry’s date. “Such a shame you boys didn’t come back to school, such a shame.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and took her cue, moving to the table where Draco was apparently licking his wounds over a cup of punch. Blaise wasn’t too far, and she linked her arm in his before daring to approach the blond.

“Just like old times it seems,” she mused to him, loud enough to get Malfoy’s attention.

Blaise knew better than to shrug her off, but his annoyance to be used in whatever game she was initiating was clear. “Indeed.” His tone was as close to a shrug as he could manage. “I’m not your go between,” he warned both of his friends, looking at them in turn.

“Please,” Pansy drawled. “I don’t need to say anything to Draco, he’s already kicking himself enough. No fun in kicking a dolly while it's down.” A pout lingered on her lips.

“Pansy, don’t you have Ron’s heels to nip at?” the blond demanded. 

“Oh he’s cranky,” Blaise turned to the girl on his arm, peeking over her to look at the trio being doted on by the professor, students clamoring around. “I can see why,” he took a sip of his punch. “At least he won’t be too good to hang with us this time,” he added with a bit of cheek.

Slughorn’s voice was loud, easily heard by most. “Come now, you four. You simply _must_ tell us all about last year traveling to defeat You-Know-Who and what dangers you faced! We’ve heard rumors of course, but nothing concrete,” he nettled them, taking a sip from his own drink.

Granger tried not to tense, resisting the urge to wrap her arm around her body as she offered a polite enough smile. “I’m sure most people have read the reports that ended up in the Prophet, Professor Slughorn,” she attempted to derail.

“Nonsense, nonsense! It’s much better to hear it all from the source! And I’ve heard quite a few rumors circulating the castle about different places you all ended up!” He continued to insist. 

Draco had to fight the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose at hearing the Potions Master. Though he’d never been the type of lash out, it seemed his tongue had the better of him of late. 

“I doubt anyone wants to hear that,” he grumbled against his drink, causing his two partners in crime to give a dark chuckle under their breaths in agreement.

“I assure you that the interviews that were given are quite accurate,” Hermione tried to deflect again, glancing at both Ron and Harry for support, her hand unconsciously starting to rub at the scar on her forearm. 

Ron looked a little uncomfortable, but reached out to wrap an arm around Hermione’s shoulders and pull her in a bit closer. “I think this wouldn’t be the best party conversation, Professor. Perhaps after a bit more time has passed we can tell you in private?” 

It was the best attempt that Ronald had at diffusing the situation. 

That sight had the Slytherin prince seeing red. Filling his glass back up and one for his date he made his move, abandoning Pansy and Blaise before they could object. “I noticed some of your favorite bonbons on the table back there,” he offered her an out, before looking to Slughorn. 

“Perhaps afterwards you’d like to share with us the creation of horcruxes, truly get to the beginning of this story,” he said pointedly towards the professor. His father had owned a shard of the Dark Lord’s soul. As a child, he had come across it once or twice, and though he might not have been privy to memories the same way Harry Potter had, he had been privy to guarded secrets some might have wanted to keep secret. As such, his father had recounted the dinners with Horace Slughorn and the information he was willing to give.

Hermione looked at Draco and the amount of gratitude that poured out of her chocolate hues could be felt by anyone that actually paid attention. “Are there really? Well then,” she murmured and took her drink from him, letting her fingers brush his arm before she strode over to the refreshment table, but her arm stayed pressed to her stomach the entire time. 

Ronald looked just a little vexed, glancing at Draco but focusing on Slughorn as the professor tried not to fidget. 

“Now, now. I can’t very well share dark magic tidbits with my students, Mr. Malfoy,” Slughorn tried to brush off but he smiled slightly. “But too true, not a great party conversation.”

“Of course,” Draco tried not to roll his eyes, choosing to peel away with a pointed glare towards Ron as he found his way back to his date. Once at her side he was careful not to touch her. “You okay?” he asked gently.

The brunette took in a slow breath before she took a long sip from her punch and actually offered him her hand. “...I’ll be alright. I’d just rather not keep repeating things about the war over and over,” she muttered. 

He merely nodded in agreement at that. Talking about the war wasn’t something he enjoyed, even less in a public setting. Instead he drew a small circle on the back of her hand with his thumb.

The feeling of his hand in hers made her sigh and she stepped in a bit closer as she took a sip of her drink. “Thanks for rescuing me,” she murmured.

“The weasel seemed to be doing a poor job at it,” he replied with a shrug, still a bit peeved by that display.

“Ron has the emotional range of a teaspoon….he wouldn’t be able to handle it,” she reasoned with a sigh before she looked up at Draco, frowning slightly. “...Are _you_ alright?”

It was a question he was asking himself. “I’ll be fine,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a lie, not that he could really express how he felt in that moment. Teaspoon or not, Ronald was being tiresome.

“That means you aren’t at the moment,” she said quietly, just loud enough for him with a look of gentle concern. Had mentioning the war gotten under his skin more than that? She was pretty sure it wasn’t Ronald. 

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated.

“Alright,” she sighed but gave a look that seemed to imply she knew _something_ was bothering him...but she wasn’t going to push. Not in public. 

A gesture he appreciated as he tried not to throw a glare at the redhead alongside Potter. He didn’t mind the loss of spotlight so much as everything that had ensued. 

Ginny seemed to be keeping Slughorn busy for the time being and Ron came wandering back over. He seemed polite enough, not glaring at Draco...but actually he wasn’t even looking at Draco. 

“Hermione...can I talk to you alone for a moment?” He asked gently and seemed focused and respectful enough. 

The brunette took in a slow breath and took another sip of her drink before she glanced at Draco and then back to Ron. “I suppose for just a few minutes,” she offered as she let go of Draco’s arm with a look that seemed to be apologetic before she moved across the room with Ron. 

A motion that had the blond’s jaw tighten, a darkness clouding his silver gaze as he followed them off. It took every ounce of self-restraint he had to keep from speaking.

Hermione focused on Ron for now as they moved to the side of the party, though she didn’t actually grab or let Ron grab her. They stood close together, but there was space enough that it was clearly not an intimate encounter. The brunette sipped at her drink carefully as Ron started to speak. 

“I know I haven’t been the most understanding or supportive lately and I wanted to say that I was sorry and to let you know that...I care about you. I just want to know that I care about you, Hermione and...I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly to his friend. 

A sigh left her lips. “I know that you care about me, Ronald. I wouldn’t keep letting you close by if you didn’t.”

“Oh...well good. So do you think that maybe you could come back to the Burrow for Christmas? Be my date, help all of us decorate the Burrow, spend time with everyone again?” He said the rest of that in a rush as he looked at her and couldn’t help the slight dusting of pink across his cheeks. 

Blinking slowly she took another few steps away from him. “Ron….no. We make much better friends. I value your friendship and hope you can understand that.”

“Hermione,” he started gently, taking those steps after her. “You know I can be a little dense but I care about you, so much. You can’t honestly be saying that you’re willing to give Malfoy a second chance and you aren’t willing to give me a second chance...We’ve been through everything together,” he continued and reached out to her. 

Hermione slapped his hand away and her expression hardened just a bit. “Who I give chances to is none of your concern. I’ll be fine,” she stated as calmly as she could but it was clear she was reaching the end of her rope. 

Ron couldn’t help but just stare at her in utter disbelief. “But Hermione, you can do better than him...than just being some serpent’s plaything,” started that line of thought but didn’t make it very far. 

The bright orange punch was flung into Ron’s face from Hermione’s cup as she glared at him. “This is done, Ronald,” she said coldly, her voice low and threatening as she turned on her heel to stride back to the punch bowl to get herself something more to drink, leaving Ron with orange punch dripping into his dress robes. 

Draco was at her side before the Gryffindor could attempt another comment, ready to curse him if need be.


	47. Aftermath

Ron couldn’t believe that he had blown it, again, with Hermione because of his damn mouth. Rather than staying there at the party, he stormed out and was muttering under his breath. Luckily he knew a spell to get all of the punch off of his dress robes. He was counting backwards from ten as he walked down the dungeon corridors. 

When Pansy had stepped out for a breath, she hadn’t expected to see the ginger storm off. If anything, she had expected Draco, had anticipated having to intercept him. Instead, she followed after Ronald of all people.

“I thought you were used to working with _mights_ ,” she sighed, arms crossed on her chest as she quickened her pace to catch up with his larger stride.

“I am but that was…bloody hell,” he groaned as he kept walking down the path and shook his head, rubbing at his temples. 

Pansy was biting the inside of her cheeks to hold back what she wanted to say. “Failure?” It was stronger than her. “Are you even trying?” she demanded. 

“I am trying. Are you? He hasn’t seemed all that bothered by whatever you sent to Hermione,” he snapped back as he looked back at her. 

“Of course I’m trying. And Hermione hasn’t cursed me so maybe she did end up wearing the racy undergarments I sent with a note from him,” she hissed. “Maybe you’re too safe for her taste,” she retaliated.

That made him wince at that before he looked at her and lifted a brow. “You think I’m too safe, Parkinson? You think that’s what she’s after?”

“It looks like it from where I stand!” She huffed. “By now she must know he has a firm hand,” she nearly purred the words. At least getting a rise out of Weasley would distract her for a while.

At that Ron backed her up into the wall, framing her in with his arms as he leaned in towards her. “Really? That’s what you think, Parkinson? Because until you saw it was me you seemed to like my hands just fine.”

Caught between him, the wall, and his accusations, she had nowhere to go. Pansy parted her lips a few times, cheeks flushed with aggravation. “I like a firm hand, and I should have known then…” she shook her head. Truth was, she had always had a romantic streak to her. One she had done her best to suppress knowing it would never be fulfilled. “Is that what you want to hear? How he’ll likely bruise her bottom so much she’ll squirm every time she sits?”

He narrowed his eyes at her and couldn’t help but shake his head as he looked at her. “You really want to make me angry? Are you wanting to have someone be heavy handed with you like Draco was with you? Or are you afraid he’s being romantic with her like he wasn’t with you?”

“I’m making you angry?” she hissed, cheeks flushed from his words hitting their target. Still she didn’t fight him off her, not truly. “We both know you don’t have the gall,” she struck back.

“To what? Be forceful with someone or to be both forceful and romantic?” He countered, noting the red in her cheeks with just a small bit of satisfaction. 

Pansy glared at him. “Already fucked you, Weasley,” she reminded in a low tone. “You know well enough what I’m referring to,” she hissed. 

“The gall to be forceful in bed? I’d try just about anything once, Parkinson. And you had me while I was drunk, not exactly at my best,” he countered with a scoff. 

She laughed. “Sure,” she shook her head. It was ludicrous really, and she honestly didn’t think he was much more than a big teddy bear.

Looking down at her from where he caged her in, he leaned in closer. “I feel like that’s a challenge, Parkinson. Like maybe you wouldn’t be opposed to having that idea proven…”

“I’ve seen you fail once tonight,” she responded, refusing to budge. “What’s another?”

A bit more of a smirk curved his lips at that. “Fine. And where’s a place I can prove that I can do what I did, and then some?” 

“Please, you want to take me somewhere, you’ll have to convince me,” she said simply. “There’s a corridor nearby that’s private enough.”

That made Ron raise a brow slightly. “Well, if you do something for me in that corridor, I might be inclined to go to the room of requirement with you and take care of you a bit more than I bet that selfish git ever has…”

Though she knew where the room was, she’d never been shown how to access it. It was something Draco had never shared with her, not even in their previous year, even less before then. “If you don’t, I will hex you,” she promised, shoving him towards the corridor.

Tall pointed tipped windows lined one side of the wall, each panel giving onto the Great Lake. It always seemed to give the dark grey walls an emerald glow, eerily beautiful as many things were in the dungeons.

That shove actually made him snort, but he moved forward into the corridor and looked at those large panels with a bit of appreciation. “This is actually…pretty cool,” he murmured as he took in the appearance of the corridor, but then glanced over at the young woman with a bit more of a chuckle. “I’d be shocked if you _only_ hexed me, Pansy.”

“Then I’d say you have _some_ sense to you.”

Many times, she’d found Draco here, and did as she was about to do. Still, she had never really had a chance to appreciate it, or see someone truly appreciate it for the first time. “Mostly Slytherins come here to snog,” she explained, showing the alcoves against the wall opposite the windows. Deep pockets with shadows, and in some cases, tapestries depicting Merlin’s many adventures. 

“This way,” she beckoned, choosing an alcove she had been fond of, that now left her with a sour taste. She needed new memories, something different, and for now, spite would do nicely.

“Can’t say it’s a bad place to snog,” he admitted to that as he glanced around at the alcoves and those panels once again. This was actually pretty nice and in some ways atmospheric. 

Following her lead, he moved into an alcove that she led him to with a bit more of a smile as he looked at her. It had been nice, he could admit to himself, when they had spent time together in Hogsmeade and it wasn’t just because he thought she was Hermione. 

Pansy smoothed along the lapels of his dress robes, taking a moment to feel over him. At least he was dapper. “Do you rather sit or stand?” She purred.

That tone had a shiver roll through him and he couldn’t help but look her over with that bit of appreciation again. Had Pansy always been this pretty? Huh. “Standing is fine,” he murmured as he brushed a stray strand of brown hair out of her face. “Unless you’d rather me sit,” he rumbled quietly. 

“And here I thought you wanted to be in charge,” she taunted. 

A bit more of a smirk curved his lips as he moved his hand into her hair lightly. “Making sure not to strain my partner is the first step. The rest of that control is mine. No need to make it uncomfortable for you, Parkinson.”

Pansy plucked her wand from her thigh and pointed at the ground. “Molliare,” she murmured, cushioning the ground at his feet. “Charm has its use,” she reminded, tucking her wand away as her fingers moved towards his belt and zip.

A bit of a smile curved his lips. Charms did have their uses. Most of these classes did in the career he was attempting to pursue, but he didn’t comment and let her start to undo his belt and the zip as his fingers stroked back through her hair. 

Carefully, she sunk to her knees, careful not to crease her dress as she settled before him. With big brown eyes, she looked up at him, not a lick of innocence to them. This was something Pansy knew well, perhaps not to a large amount of wizards but she’d been generous to _her_ wizard in their time together. Her gaze bore into his as she released him from his trousers, greeting his length with a hearty lick.

That first lick almost pulled a groan from Ron’s lips as he looked at her. There was something more enjoyable about that lack of innocence in her gaze. He had always been afraid that he would hurt Hermione, but Pansy? Pansy knew what she was doing. 

Her seize was firm and yet surprisingly gentle as she licked and pumped him, enjoying the shifts of expression on his face.

“So good,” he praised with actual appreciation in his voice for her, even as his fingers tangled in her brown tresses.

Despite herself, she felt a shiver at those words. Never in her years would she have believed Ronald Bilius Weasley of all people would make her feel anything beyond disgust, but there she was, twirling her tongue over the tip of him as her thumb drew small circles along the length of him as she continued to tease him.

Those teasing touches had him moan softly as he looked at her and tried not to thrust forward, tried not to tangle his hands further in her hair. “Bloody hell, Pansy,” he let out on a breath. 

She grinned as she took him in deeper, giving him a teasing stare. “Don’t get us caught because you can’t keep quiet,” she warned, making it a point to trace his frenulum with the tip of her tongue before taking him in more deeply than before.

Holding back a groan, he bit down on his bottom lip as he kept his hand in her hair. He couldn’t stop watching her, not as she kept taking more of his length into her mouth. She was so warm and the feeling of her tongue made shivers roll down his spine. 

Even when her lashes pressed against her cheeks as she took him in, she could feel his gaze. Unlike Draco, he saw her, actually appreciated what she was doing, and she tried not to let it distract her. There was a dust of pink on her cheeks as she continued to take him, a sight she hoped the dim green lighting of the corridor concealed.

There was added color to her cheeks, or was it drained color? In this light all he could tell was that there was some sort of change to the color of her cheeks. His own were dusted in pink as well as he held back another groan and almost rocked forward slightly. 

Every so often, she could feel him struggling not to shove himself down her throat, a restraint she rewarded with exactly that. Each time she did, she dug into his hips, both a warning for him not to push it and a way to stop herself from gagging.

Each dig of her nails had him have to hold back a moan, his hand tightening in her hair, but he did manage to actually not shove himself forward. Just barely. The Slytherin woman’s mouth was just so inviting it was hard not to, but her _warnings_ were well received. 

Opening her eyes she looked up to him as she held him at the back of her throat. She enjoyed the way he stifled his moans, tried to keep control. Slowly, she pulled back, keeping his gaze as she lapped at his length, exposing it to the chill of the dungeon air a few moments before taking it back in.

“Merlin’s beard,” he groaned quietly. His head fell back against the wall of the alcove and the sound of her sucking his length in and lapping at him filled his senses. 

“Merlin’s got nothing to do with it,” she mocked biting him, only to let his length glide against the smooth sides of her cheeks. She wouldn’t actually do it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy pressing her teeth against that hard flesh.

Well he bloody well knew that, but he couldn’t help the expression now could he? He could barely thread thoughts together at the moment. A groan left him again and he tightened his hand in her hair again, looking a little strained. That light press of teeth had him nervous, but it sent a thrill through him. 

As much as she wanted to inspire him to use her name, she decided against it, enjoying that shift on his features. A mix of fear and pleasure, the elation that came from it. Perhaps he could handle what he had promised her, at least she hoped he understood it now.


	48. Caught in the Act

Whispers had followed them at every corner of the large room Slughorn’s Yule festivities were being held in. Even the portraits seemed to follow them with judgment and words of their own. Though every guest in attendance seemed to think they were discreet in their glances and hurried utterances, they did poorly in concealing their need to process the discord displayed by two members of the golden trio. The fact that she sought refuge on Malfoy’s arm of all people only made its occurrence spread through the crowd like a visible ripple.

Draco had wanted to shield her from it all, to distance himself from the ongoing rumours begging to be spread.

“Here,” he motioned for a door that gave into the adjoining potions classroom. 

All of the whispers were things she could almost picture. McLaggen had painted a pretty clear portrait of what he thought of her at the last party and she could only imagine that it had gotten worse. With a nod of her head, she followed where he led. 

The room was dark, thank Merlin for that, and it offered a bit of distance from all of those gossip mongers. Cool and dark and quiet. Not the most romantic of scenes, what with the jars of creature parts and potion ingredients that left a scent to the air that tickled the nose. Still, it gave them a small respite to the murmurs beyond the door.

“Do I need to hex him?” he asked, more than willing to do so. In fact, he had half a mind to walk out and do exactly that.

“No...no, I’m fine. He just got under my skin,” she reassured as she took his hand, lacing their fingers together. 

Gently bringing her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Makes two of us,” he said, brushing the patronus charm on her wrist.

That soft kiss made her smile a little but she looked at that charm with a raised brow. “Is the fact I’m wearing that charm bothering you?”

“Wouldn’t you be if I wore something Parkinson gave me?” He returned simply.

That did cause a slight spark of jealousy to flit through her like a wind. Her fingers brushed the charm and she let out a sigh. “...A little. Though probably because of the situations I’ve found you in with Parkinson before we started this,” she admitted quietly. No such events had occurred between her and Ron while at school. 

“Intimacy isn’t always _that_. He saw your patronus, that’s incredibly personal,” he mentioned quietly. Part of his jealousy was also the fact he hadn’t actually produced one, not fully in any event. 

She actually lifted a brow slightly “...All of the D.A. saw my patronus. We practiced patronus charms during fifth year in that room...I haven’t produced one since the war,” she admitted and stepped in closer to press a light kiss to his jaw. “Do you want me to take off the charm?”

Draco closed his eyes, tempering himself. Ron and Harry had always been a source of aggravation, but he hadn’t though they would still plague him after it all. Not with them off living their lives in London. Perhaps he should have expected it, what with his own luck and all. “At least for tonight,” he decided to say. She was with him for the evening after all. Beyond that, he knew in time he would see what she had explained, and perhaps with some luck, he'd stop feeling the sting of jealousy.

Hermione nodded her head as she carefully removed the charm, and with a bit of wordless magic she sent it to her dorm. Leaning in, she kissed him gently. “Done. And if seeing someone’s patronus is that intimate, I can show you at some point.”

“I’d like that,” he brushed her cheek tenderly, meeting those chocolate hues he had grown so fond of. “I…I’ve never cast one,” he admitted.

Leaning into the touch, she sighed softly and looked into those silver hues of his. “...I can try to show you how, help you think of something happy...It could be something intimate for the two of us.” 

Fingers tangled with hers he drew her closer, gently nuzzling her to claim her lips in response. A better response than words in her opinion, especially as she kissed him back and wrapped one arm around him, keeping her hand in his. For a while longer he kissed her, enjoying the proximity, needing it honestly. This was better than the party in his opinion. It was all he needed. Bringing their joined hands to her cheeks, he pressed his forehead to hers. 

“We should head back before I change my mind,” he spoke in a tone so low, he doubted their utterance.

Resting her forehead there, she smiled a little bit more. “One more kiss? Since we can’t kiss during the party,” she made the gentle request, hoping she wouldn't have to respect his decline of the offer.

He eyed her lips, nearing them slowly, as though debating an action he had no qualms executing. Gently, he brushed her hair back, allowing his thumb to smooth along the edges of her bottom lip. “I suppose one more couldn’t hurt,” he barely spoke the words, his breath lingering before he claimed her again.

Each touch had her heart hammering in her chest, had her having to take in a slow breath. The way he just looked at her made her nearly melt into the floor before she kissed him back. Taking one more step closer, she kept one arm around him while the other was still in his hand. One more kiss was easier said than done. That step in had him pulling her closer as their lips met. Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t pull away. Air seemed secondary to her warmth, to how wonderfully she felt flush against him. With them constantly having to steal moments and kisses after Hogsmeade, this was something she couldn’t really deny. So distracted she was, she didn’t hear the sound of the door knob rattling behind them. Nor did he hear the footsteps that followed suit. 

“What have we here Mrs Norris? Students, snogging past curfew,” the man’s voice called with a glee that could only be attributed to the caretaker, Mr Filch.

Holding back a curse, Hermione hesitantly pulled back from Draco with an apologetic look, her cheeks a bright shade of pink as she looked back at Mr. Filch. “Mr. Filch. We...We needed some space from Professor Slughorn’s Yule party. We were both invited, given permission to be out past curfew,” she explained as calmly and quickly as she could. 

“I’m certain we can clear this up with our heads of houses,” he began, but Filch was having none of it.

“You think I’m stupid do ya?” He growled. “Let’s go see Professor Slughorn right now,” he gestured to the adjoining door. “Sure he’d love to hear about students snogging in his classroom.”

Hermione squeezed Draco’s hand, but moved to let go of it, if he wanted her to. But she had a feeling that Mr. Filch was not going to let this be a quiet event. Discretion didn’t feel like it was going to go well for much longer. 

Following behind Mr. Filch she let her fingers brush the necklace around her neck, briefly touching both the serpent and the lion that were there. 

There had been a time where Filch might have caved to his request, but apparently, that wasn’t going to happen. Draco couldn't quite say what exactly emboldened him as he kept her hand in his more tightly. 

Her hand tightened on Draco’s in response as they were led back out to the party. Music played as small plates of food were being snacked on. Slowly, gazes began to follow the pair as they were ushered towards their host. Slughorn, as was to be expected, was in the middle of talking with Harry and Ginny upon their approach. Filch wasn’t about to make this easy on them. 

It took a moment for Slughorn to notice the new presence, causing him to blink a few times. “And what’s going on here? Mr. Filch? Is something the matter?”

“Found these two snogging in your classroom,” he replied, obviously disgusted. It wasn’t so much who that was the source of his contempt, so much as his deep distaste for students in general.

“Oh my,” Slughorn muttered but looked over at them and started to smile just a bit. “They were invited to my party, Mr. Filch, though it seems our Head Boy and Head Girl needed a moment. House co-operation, indeed,” he chuckled and looked at the pair. “I’ll make sure they don’t wander into any other classrooms, Mr. Filch.”

Draco could feel the slightest rose dusting his cheeks. He felt like a schoolboy, which he was, and yet, he hadn’t actually felt it until then. 

“And punishment?” Filch narrowed his gaze on the Potions Master.

“It’s close to the holidays, Argus. They didn’t break in anywhere they weren’t supposed to be. Have some firewhiskey and relax some,” the professor tried to distract the caretaker with a bit of a smile even as he gave the pair a knowing look.

Hermione could feel herself flushing a bit more and she lightly squeezed her partner’s hand. “Thank you, Professor Slughorn,” she said softly. 

A sentiment Draco begrudgingly echoed. Still he didn’t try to pull away, fearing what fresh hell Filch might add to the mix if they left Slughorn’s side.

Muttering something about chains, Filch saw his way out. His departure had the whispers around them grow in strength as wagers and rumors began to spread faster than fiendfyre. He couldn’t help but fear the worse. 

“I need to go,” he spoke gently towards Hermione, hoping she would understand.

She gave a nod of her head as she looked to him, her voice quiet for his ears alone. “I’ll come with you, if you’d like,” she offered. 

He nodded. If she wanted to join, he wouldn’t stop her. After all, he doubted their peers would go any easier on her alone than at his side.

Glancing over to Harry and Ginny she offered just a slight smile and moved with Draco to leave. Luckily her friends didn’t seem too bothered. The rumors were going to get far more detailed now and she had a feeling some would believe this as being natural while others would still think that one of them had cursed the other. 

On his way out, Draco didn’t bother to look at Pansy or Blaise. He had to get out, to think. Once a bit further down the hall he sighed. 

“I didn’t expect us having to cut things short so quickly,” he offered in a form of apology.

“Neither did I...but it’s alright. I’m sure Harry and Ron are enough war hero to keep Slughorn busy...and I’d rather spend time with you,” she said quietly. 

His hand tightened on hers. “I can show you one of my favorite places down here,” he suggested, delaying what he would have to do. His parents would be sending a howler, he was sure.

She squeezed his hand back, pressing a kiss lightly to his jaw. If they were exposed due to the party, she was going to at least comfort him how she could. “I’d like that. I never got to spend much time exploring the dungeons.”

“This way,” he guided her down a small hall towards the large windows onto the lake.

Hermione let him lead, she had to after all, but she trusted him more than she could put to words. When had that happened? Whatever they had between them, it was growing more every day. 

“I used to come here to think,” he provided as they began walking the length of the hall. Tall emerald windows giving into the Great Lake, the carefully carved alcoves. Some with benches, others statues of notable Slytherins.

Looking out the large emerald windows, she held back a slight shudder. It was beautiful, but part of her would always remember the cold of the Great Lake and what she had seen on her way back out of it. “It looks like a good place to clear your head. And a good place to read to find solitude,” she offered with a small smile, delighted he could share this with her. 

“Also a very popular place for snogging,” he chuckled.

“I can see why,” she laughed softly. It was nice. Kind of romantic in a way. 

He gave her a bit of a playful look. “Oh you can?” he asked cheekily. It was easier to focus on her, on this place than it was to think of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

Looking back at him, she bushed a little but couldn’t help but smile. “With you? Absolutely,” she almost chuckled, her thumb brushing back and forth against the back of his hand. 

His gaze moved from where she touched his hand to her lips. “Sure we can find a nice little alcove,” he spoke gently, biting his lower lip for a moment.

“I wouldn’t object. Nice view, good company,” she half teased as she glanced over at the alcoves. How many of them had statues and how many had benches? That hadn’t been covered in her favorite book in the Wizarding world. 

“Right this way,” he lifted his arm in offering, prepared to lead her a bit further in to ensure some privacy. He just hoped no younger years had decided to give them work.

Taking his arm, looping hers through his, she smiled up at him. 

It wasn’t until they were further down, about to find an alcove of their own that the sounds of heavy breathing caught the pairs attention. Though it was faint, the echo of the chambers made it both hard to discern and to pinpoint.

“Seems we were beaten to it,” he groaned under his breath.

“We still have to break that up, don’t we?” She spoke quietly, a faint blush in her cheeks. Well, she couldn’t blame whoever it was considering they were about to find some solitude here as well but they still had a job to do. 

“On the bright side, we’ll have an alcove to ourselves,” he offered jokingly.

Though as they moved a bit further down the corridor, the sound of sucking could be heard which made Hermione stop in her tracks. No. Someone wouldn’t…but they had in the library, hadn’t they?

It’d been a while since they had caught someone in such a predicament. Slowly pulling away from the Gryffindor at his side, he reached for his wand and gave her a look to make sure she was ready to intrude on the indecency a few steps away.

Drawing her wand from a pocket concealed in the folds of the dress, she took in a slow breath and nodded her head. She’d follow his lead. The number of times she’d had to intrude on something like this were easily counted on one hand. 

“Well well well, what have we here,” he drawled.

With a flick of his wrist, a light grew bright at the tip of his wand, flooding the area. Though he’d carefully crafted a mask of disinterest as the girl gagged and swallowed down her pride to get up. He’d expected many things, but Pansy Parkinson rising from her knees, wasn’t one of them.

Igniting her own wand, adding light to the emerald colored corridor, she blushed a deeper shade of red as she saw Ronald quickly trying to put his length back in his trousers. It made her clear her throat a few times as she tucked her hair back out of her face. 

“Well...this is unexpected. And I thought we’d have two students to take house points from,” she spoke, her voice not giving away her shock even as her cheeks blazed. 

Part of Draco wanted to do just that, but docking points from Slytherin wasn’t something he enjoyed doing.

Pansy tapped a handkerchief to her lips and vanished it before looking at the pair. “As if he didn’t take you here for the very same reason,” she threw a sharp look at Draco. Gripping Ron’s wrist, she tugged him with her, refusing to leave him behind to make things worse. “He so does love it here,” she threw at Hermione. Bullying was second nature, it was her self-defense mechanism.

“Can’t say I’ve gotten on my knees in a public place, Parkinson. That seems to be something you greatly enjoy though, knock yourself out. The both of you,” she said cooly back, watching that slight flinch from Ronald at that. 

The youngest Weasley boy didn’t move away from Parkinson though, moving with her without saying a word. It was hard, but he managed. Trying to banish the thought of what Hermione might be doing by focusing on what Parkinson _had_ been doing. The Room of Requirement would offer them more privacy now after all. 

Pansy chuckled. “Guess you don’t know Draco all that well then,” she threw her ex a judging three quarter stare before getting out of range. Having the last word was an art, and Ron did owe her, which she had every intention on collecting.

Hermione tried not to glower at Pansy’s back as she took in a slow breath, extinguishing the light of her wand and tucked it into the interior pocket of her dress. Though that did sting more than she cared to admit. Pansy had years of knowing about Draco. Hermione had a few months. 

Draco clenched his jaw, waiting until Pansy was well out of ear shot. “Hopefully this means we don’t have to deal with them anymore,” he tried to alleviate the situation, but even he couldn’t quite shake off the aggravation he felt. 

She nodded her head in agreement as she tried to keep her thoughts under control. _Guess you don’t know Draco all that well then,_ still rung in her head like a curse. That was one way to shake her confidence and resolve in all of this. 

Not looking at where Pansy and Ron had gone, she focused on the large window out into the lake as she lifted her hand to fiddle with the necklace. Her fingers brushed over the lion and the snake charm as she looked into the depths and tried to get her thoughts under control. 

Draco didn’t rush her as he looked over her towards the water. He took the time to sheath his wand and adjust his robes. His own thoughts racing. As much as Pansy had a way of getting under his skin, she’d unintentionally given him a gift. At least he felt quite certain she had. 

“I used to come here to think,” he said gently. “Then I became a teenager struggling with impulse control,” he supplied in an attempt to make light of things.

A slight laugh left her at that as she shook her head. “...Boys,” she muttered under her breath, still fiddling with the necklace. He’d already said it was complicated with Parkinson and she agreed not to push him to tell her. But Merlin, it was hard.

“I’m not particularly proud of everything I’ve done,” he sighed, hands tucked in his pockets. “I don’t expect that of you, if you’re wondering,” he supplied hating that Pansy had even made that a potential doubt. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the thought of it.

“I know, Draco...I’m not judging you,” she reassured before she glanced over her shoulder at him with a small smile and a lifted brow. “If it was an expectation I’d be a little concerned. But that does make me wonder…” she trailed off and lightly chewed at her bottom lip, remembering what he had said before. About changing needs. What had he meant by that? Should they have talked about that already?

A tingle trickled down his spine at the way she looked at him. Discreetly swallowing down he did his best to maintain composure. “And what have you been wondering?” He asked gently.

She tried not to fidget as she turned to look at him a bit more fully, fingers still tracing over his gift to her. “You said your...needs had changed. Back before Hogsmeade. You’ve never told me what you meant by that…”

“I suppose we haven’t discussed that,” he acknowledged with a bit of a nod. Despite being certain they were alone, he glanced up and down the length of the hall. “We can if you want,” he motioned to a few alcoves down with a bench.

Following where he motioned, she moved to take a seat there and looked up at him as she pulled back out her wand. Once he walked into the alcove, she cast a muffliato charm right at the edge of the alcove so no one else could hear them. Just in case. 

Taking a seat beside her, he felt appreciative of the spell. “I always enjoyed control,” he admitted. “My tastes grew a bit more so during the war.” Shame wasn’t behind his quest for diplomacy in his explanation. More so fear that she would bolt. “I do enjoy a few thrills, public places when I know I can get away with it,” he smirked, recalling their time in the library, and the various snog sessions they’d put in around the castle.

Hermione felt a bit more of that heat start to color her face as she listened to him. Control. In theory she could guess at what that meant as far as tastes but she was not entirely sure. Not outside of the few books she had read. Though few might be a little conservative. 

“I had wondered why you seemed so...willing to indulge in the library,” she replied, trying not to fidget, but she didn’t look like she was about to bolt, clearly hearing him out on this specific topic. 

“I wasn’t sure you would be inclined,” he responded easily enough. “I did enjoy it, especially how good you were,” he reminded her of how she had accepted to be quiet.

That made her blush a little bit more. “So that’s why you called me a good girl,” she asked.

Draco nodded. “It varies on my mood. At the height of the war, I wouldn’t have let you touch me.” He hadn’t really admitted that out loud beyond whatever partner he’d used at the time. “Curses, whips, restraints…” he bit his lower lip. Just imagining her tightly bound was enough to make him remember why he had given into those urges. 

Hermione almost wrinkled her nose at that. Not being able to touch her partner would have made her feel...used, like something that could be discarded. If it continued to vary to that extreme she wasn’t sure she could satisfy that need that he might have. Her cheeks stayed flush as she nodded her head, clearly lost in thought. 

“It wasn’t personal,” he explained, taking her hand. “It’s...with you it is,” he tried to show a difference. “Even if I tied you up to my bed, it would be different for me. There’s aftercare, and you know I can be gentle and doting.” 

Her thumb lightly brushed the back of his hand, keeping her hand in his as she nodded her head. “Curses and jinxes sound a bit much,” she murmured, not meeting his gaze as she blushed. Though she didn’t dismiss the other things he had mentioned. 

He had prepared to defend and paused at her answer, his brows moving up in surprise. “Is that so?” He asked, rather pleased by her answer. “I suppose I can live with that,” he responded with a playful smirk.

Looking up at him through her lashes she tried not to blush even further as she looked at him. “...I’d be willing to try,” she agreed quietly, that smirk sending a shiver through her. What would that be like outside of the books she read? 

“That’s all I can ever ask,” he replied earnestly. This wasn’t something he would force on her, and if it worked out, he supposed it just made them that much more compatible. “Doesn’t have to be now,” he added. “When you’re ready, let me know,” brushed a few strands of chestnut curls behind her ear, taking a moment to let her thumb brush her cheek in the process.

He was full of surprises, and that gentleness was actually reassuring to her. Leaning into that light touch she sighed softly and nodded her head. “I will. Not tonight...but I’d be willing to try before too long.” Maybe over the holidays she’d find that confidence. 

At that he nodded. “I understand,” he brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it.

A soft giggle left her at that, still a little unused to the more gentlemanly attention. It reminded her of classical Muggle literature. 

“Well...now the question is what to do with the rest of our evening. Since we’re both done with the party.” 

“I need to contact my parents before hearsay reaches them first,” he admitted. It would have been easier if she had decided his tastes were too much for her. Though, he wouldn’t change her answer for anything. She was his, and he wasn’t about to back away from it.

A bit of dread curled in her stomach at that, hoping that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy would not be coming to the castle. “Then we should head back to our common room. I’ll give you space to contact them. Though we could go by the kitchens so the elves might send something to our room,” she offered. 

He brushed a kiss to her temple. “You can go to the kitchens while I hopefully don’t get murdered through the floo network,” he offered. He wasn’t sure it was possible, or impossible. Either way, he had a feeling he’d find out.

Pausing, she turned his head and claimed his lips in a gentle kiss. “Don’t get murdered, Draco. I don’t think I’d forgive you,” she half teased but offered him a reassuring smile as she moved to stand up. “I’ll meet you in our common room.”

“I’ll try my best,” he promised, kissing beside her lips. If he kissed her again, he doubted he would leave their alcove. He stood with her, keeping her company as they made their way to the kitchens where they would part ways.

“You’d better,” she cautioned and let her hand brush his. Once he walked her to the kitchens, she went in ahead of him so he could have some time on his own in the tower. He wouldn’t need any sort of audience for dealing with his parents.


	49. Come and Go Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Ronsy Ahead_ **

It seemed the entire castle was void of people. Some students had left early for the holidays, most were still tucked in the Great Hall for dinner. Days had grown shorter, and through the windows a dim amber light danced on the tapestries and walls as Pansy all but dragged Ronald to the Seventh floor. She knew more or less where the room was, but she had never managed to get in. Something she hoped to change.

“So how does it open?” she asked, smoothing over her dress as though the brisk pace had caused any sort of wrinkle. “Or are you incapable of holding your end of our bargain?” she demanded.

Ron had to hold back the urge to groan or roll his eyes as he glanced at her, straightening the jacket to his dress robes a little himself. “You have to pace back and forth in front of this wall thinking about what you _need_ for the room to have for you. So you have to have something in mind,” he explained to the best of his ability. 

“Let’s see if you walk the walk then,” she invited him to do the pacing. “And aim for higher thread counts for the bed,” she warned.

Glancing over at her, he lifted a brow slightly but let out a sigh and started to move. He paced back and forth, trying to picture something warm and welcoming for the room, with a large bed, with a high thread count, for more neutral colors. Pansy didn’t seem like the type of woman that would appreciate the garnet and gold of a lion. 

Once the door appeared, she watched it with interest. She brushed against it with her fingers almost in disbelief by its existence and yet she felt the thick wood as real as any castle door. Opening it, she stepped in and took in the chamber the castle created. It wasn’t Gryffindor themed, so she stepped in further to examine its contents. 

A fire roared in a large hearth, a plump velvet settee sat before it under a thick plush rug. The bed was hard to miss, taking up an impressive portion of the wall it pressed against. It seemed large enough to accommodate a half-giant, not that she was complaining. 

With a nod of approval she turned to look at the redhead. “Not bad,” she drawled.

Following after her, he rolled his eyes slightly but he smiled a bit more. “Glad you approved. I tried to find something...cozy but nice?” He tried to put words to it but as they both knew, words were not his strong suit. 

“I see,” she replied, studying him. He actually put...effort. This wasn’t something she was used to despite her standards. Normally, if she wanted something, she had to put most of the work behind it.

Her heels clicked against the bits of floor not covered in any type of carpeting as she drew closer to him. 

As she drew closer, he looked her over with a bit of a smile at her lack of insult. Well, that was an improvement. Though he was honestly a little uncertain about whether or not she was going to be welcoming to his advances... when she got close he pulled her in and looked her over before leaning in to kiss her. 

That strong seize had her make a sound of pleased surprise, almost a giggle, but not quite. It was short lived, if only for the feel of his lips against hers, which she welcomed with a playful nip.

The nip nearly made him groan before he tightened his arms around her and nipped at her bottom lip lightly before kissing her a bit more deeply. 

She practically purred at his firmer grasp. That definitely worked for her, just as the feel of his teeth against her plump lower lip did. Greedily, she kissed him back, hands resting on his shoulders a moment before moving to his ginger locks. They were surprisingly soft.

That was better. Ron actually relaxed into her attentions as her hand tangled in his hand, the other stroking down her back. Taking his time to kiss her thoroughly, he slowly started to ease them backwards towards that large bed behind her. 

A shiver raked her thin frame as he touched her so gently. There was hunger, but it was different. Closer to how it was that first night with him. It was also something she wasn’t ready to repeat. Still, she followed as he led her towards the bed, allowing the mattress to hit the back of her legs.

Once she stopped he pushed her onto the bed, his hands moving down her hips and along her thighs, starting to lift up the skirt of her dress. He had promised to return the favor, hadn’t he? Even if he hadn’t gotten to finish due to an interruption, didn’t mean he was going to back out. 

Pansy bit her lip as he rose the fabric up her legs. The stockings she wore beneath were clipped to the garter and lacy undergarments she wore. A crimson lace that complimented her complexion. She hadn’t thought of house colors when she’d bought it so much as how good she looked in it.

Ron kept the fabric of her dress bunched up around her waist and unclipped her stockings. He removed her heels and carefully removed the stockings by rolling them down her legs, exhibiting more patience than a lot of people thought him capable of. 

“Didn’t think you’d be someone that enjoyed the color red,” he half teased as he looked up at her. 

Pansy eyed him as he undressed her so carefully. “Were you expecting my entire wardrobe to be emerald and silver?” she demanded with the raise of a perfectly shaped brow. “There are many many colors, and red is a great color through at least two seasons if not all four,” she began and paused. “And as biased as I am towards my house colors, my skintone favors golden hues,” she added matter of factly, nudging his shoulder with her toe.

A snort left him at that but he shook his head. “Not entirely, no. But I didn’t expect something so close to Gryffindor garnet…though I agree, you’d look better in gold,” he stated as he took off the stockings and then moved to unfasten the garter and pull down her knickers. One hand eased them off while the other traced a finger down her folds. 

With a single touch she bit her lip again, keeping herself steady. The last thing she wanted was to appear desperate. Especially in present company. “Don’t get too many ideas,” she warned. 

“What ideas could I get?” He couldn’t help but ask as he kept that dress up around her hips and pressed a kiss to the inside of her high as he moved down to his knees and spread her legs. 

“Oh,” she sounded as he drew closer. She hadn’t expected that, not that she was complaining. “I- “ Word eluded her for a moment.

Looking up at her he lifted a brow. “Don’t always have to have a comeback, Parkinson,” he drawled before he leaned in and licked slowly up her folds. 

Rather than answer she reached to run a hand through his hair again. Closing her eyes she focused on the feel of his tongue against her. Any retort would have his tongue pry from her, and that was worth allowing him the final word so to speak.

Settling between her legs, he was focused, tracing over her with his tongue as he lapped at her. His tongue circled around her clit a few times before he continued, keeping himself focused on building her pleasure. 

Soft moans escaped her as he so diligently teased her, a feat he was managing quite well if she had to admit. It had her fingers clenching a bit more tightly in those silk ginger strands of his as her hips struggled to remain put.

Those sounds spurred Ron on, trailing one hand up her inner thigh towards her core as he focused a bit more on her clit. His other hand gripped her hip and kept it pressed down on the bed as his finger teased along her entrance. 

A more throaty sound escaped her as his touch traveled up to taunt, her teeth biting into her lip as her cheeks flushed. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but look over towards him, watching as he devoured her in that manner.

He didn’t stop, wanting to prove a point on the one hand and on the other he just enjoyed the noises that she was making. It was music to his ears. Delving a finger slowly into her, he continued to lap at her clit as he eased his finger slowly in and out of her. 

That new addition had her head roll back, teeth digging into her lower lip as she stifled some moans. He felt good. Better than she could have imagined.

At the lack of sound, or the cut off of sound rather, he glanced up at her through his lashes to make sure she was still okay. There was a bit of smugness in his gaze as he looked at her, watched her as she lightly sucked on her clit before letting his tongue lap along her folds again. 

Between the look and that suck, her lips parted, a deep sound escaping her as she eyed him. The way she looked at him was more appealing than she cared to admit. Still, she fought the desire to speak his name.

Once he was certain that she was okay, he went back to the task at hand, adding a second finger inside of her as he continued. His eyes slowly closed as he listened to those sounds. Why did she sound so amazing?

She bit into the sounds that escaped her, clawing at his head, and gripping the sheets beside her. At least he had indulged her in the high count thread sheet. Or the comforter was soft enough, and plump to dig into.

The claws made him groan against her folds as he increased the pace of his fingers going in and out of her, lifting his mouth off for a moment as he looked at her. “Careful,” he cautioned, though his voice sounded a bit deeper. 

“Mmm did I hurt you?” she asked, a drawl to her tone that was interrupted by a number of dips from the pleasure of his actions.

“Not yet, which is why I said careful…you have nails,” he murmured before he increased the pace of his fingers again. He could feel just how hard he was in his dress pants and he wanted out of them...sooner rather than later. 

Those digits felt good, but she knew what would feel better. She ached for more, for him, a thought that deepened her flush further. Although she had claws in more ways than one, she merely abandoned herself to the pleasure. A nice reprieve from her mind’s usual chatter.

If only to prove a point, he wanted her to continue to build and go over that edge. She seemed to think that he couldn’t put people before himself and this was a good way to show that he could. At least by his logic. Plus, those noises she made were delicious. 

He didn’t seem to plan on stopping his attention on her. Beneath his hand, she struggled not to squirm from the pleasure building inside of her. Sounds growing louder as she felt that tightness throughout her muscles, the way her innards seemed to tense. “So close,” she barely managed.

He grinned a little bit to himself as she got louder, as she almost squirmed. He kept it up. Ron wasn’t someone that easily gave up, not anymore, and he occasionally relished a challenge. Was that why he actually enjoyed his time with Parkinson? Better not to dwell on it too much.

It didn’t take much for Pansy to let go and merely succumb to the rise in pleasure. Around the room, her cries resounded as her body clenched with bliss. Cheeks flushed, she panted as she eyed him, half expecting him to stop, but he didn't. Instead, he continued to pleasure her through her climax. Ron slowly lifted his mouth off of her and drew his fingers from her folds as he looked up at her with a bit of a smug smirk. Well, hearing her was rather satisfying. Although quite pleased, watching him pull away, feeling the lack of him as he just stood there with that stupid grin... Of course he was smug. Sitting up, she smoothed over the expanses of fabric she covered her thighs with.

“Are you just going to stand there, grinning like a...?” She demanded, her voice not quite as strident or mean as it might have been under different circumstances. “Buffoon,” she completed the sentence, and even it fell short. Pansy Parkinson was in denial, but most of all, she was disarmed.

Looking up at her, he couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at that. “Well, are you asking me to join you? I half thought you’d be done with me after that,” he drawled as he looked at her, but there was still a bit of heat to his own expression. He wasn’t going anywhere if she didn’t want him to leave. 

“Pretty sure you were meant to prove that you had a firm hand, so far, I’d call it nimble,” she responded, biting her lip.

Loosening his tie, he took it off and put it on the bed side table as he moved to stand, kicking out of his shoes as he looked at her. “Well then...the question becomes if you want that firm hand to be literally in my hand....or if you want it to be shown in another way.”

Pansy pushed her hair over and behind her shoulders. “If you need me to give you a rise, you just need to ask,” she jabbed at him, standing up from where she sat on the bed.

Ron lifted a brow as he started shrugging out of the upper half of his dress robes, looking at her slowly. “Well, if you want to be spanked I can do that or…” he trailed off and leaned in, wrapping his arms around her to start unfastening the back of her dress. 

She didn’t fight him as he undid her dress. If anything, she leaned in until her lips were at his ear. “Only if I deserve it,” she purred.

A groan left him at that mere implication and part of him wanted to find a reason to be able to do that. “You haven’t yet,” he chuckled as he tossed her dress aside before he unfastened his pants, pulling the foil packet out of his robes. He had started carrying one...just in case.

Pansy nipped along his jaw and sucked his lobe in her mouth. “Mmmm,” she sounded cheekily. “There’s still time,” she smoothed over his chest and down his arms to pluck the foil from his grasp. 

Ron groaned again and tightened his arms back around her. “You like getting into trouble don’t you?” He couldn’t help but ask with a bit more of a smirk before he pulled back to look at her. 

She met his gaze. “Depends on the trouble,” she looked at his lips.

“...I think I want to learn what sort of trouble you like,” he drawled before he looked down at her and leaned in, claiming her lips in a heated kiss. 

Pansy kissed him back, harder than previously. She nipped at his lips as she tore the packaging she held to help ease it on him. “Guess you’ll have to find out,” she breathed.

Ron kissed her back intently, nipping back at her bottom lip and he almost groaned as she helped ease that protection around his length. “I will. Move up the bed,” he demanded. 

A slight pout was given to him, but she turned to climb back into bed, nothing left to hide any part of her from view. “Like this?” she asked, looking over her shoulder to how she displayed herself on all fours.

Looking her over he almost groaned. He could feel his length almost throb with need as he watched her. “If that’s how you wanna be. I won’t complain in the least...but I do like seeing your reactions,” he stated as he moved up onto the bed after her. 

“I’m sure we can work our way there,” she drawled, watching him over her shoulder.

“We can,” he agreed as he grabbed her hips, pulling her back as he pressed close to her. One hand smoothed up her back while he teased his length against her folds. 

Her spine dipped under his hand, hips pushing back into his touch. 

It was almost surprising how responsive she was. But at her pressing back, he carefully teased against her before he thrust forward into her with a moan. 

A soft cry left her as he speared her. Knees and hands digging into the mattress she readjusted herself, bracing herself for the next thrust.

Ron grinned a bit more at that, his hand on her back moving down to lightly squeeze her breast as he kept that slow yet firm pace. 

Pansy rocked back against him, enjoying the way he touched her. Even like this, he surrounded her, held her close. It was almost smothering, but she didn’t fight it. He wanted to be close to her. She felt amazing and he kept things slow, but hard. She had questioned his firm hand, and now he felt like he had to prove a point as he kept that up and lightly teased at her nipple. Every thrust and tease told her he was trying to hold his end of the deal. As much as she appreciated it, she also did love to get a rise out of him.

“You afraid to break me?” She taunted, throwing a glance over her shoulder.

That made him groan before he looked right at her, pinching her nipple between his fingers before he thrust into her harder, increasing his pace. “Absolutely not.”

A mixture of pain and pleasure shot through her at the combination, a deeper cry escaping her as he took her more steadily.

“Good,” she managed, biting her lower lip as she looked at him again.

That look on her face almost made him groan, but he kept a steady pace, keeping power and a bit more speed to his thrusts as his thumb brushed over her nipple to soothe that pinch.

“Mmm,” she sounded, pushing back into him. She wanted to blame the months of celibacy on how good he felt. Surely that was it. 

“You feel…fantastic,” he groaned as he thrust into her and lightly squeezed her breast again, focusing on what made her react. 

Praise was something Pansy lived for, and hearing him say that, it definitely worked for her. “Yeah?” she purred, holding back a few moans as she pushed her chest into his hand. 

“Yeah,” he groaned as he quickened his pace a bit more, pressing kisses to the backs of her shoulders. She was pretty and expressive and strong. Which honestly just did it for him. 

Those kisses, that mixture of gentleness and roughness, it was a balance she thought she knew, but not like this. “Y-” she began but had trouble creating any sort of statement beyond incomprehensible moans with how good he felt. “So good,” she skipped to the end of the statement.

Ron smirked and nipped at her shoulder lightly before kissing where he had just nipped. “Yeah you are,” he moaned against her skin and moved his hand along her side. Rather than stay at that same rhythm, he thrust a bit harder into her. 

That bite, his lips, the way he filled her, it was almost too much. She was on the verge, and with how sensitive he had left her, it wasn’t long before she was crying out. Her inner walls clenched around his length as she clawed the mattress below.

The feeling of her clamping down on him like that had him moan a bit more loudly. Ron only lasted a few more thrusts into her through her climax before he groaned as he came, keeping his hold on her as he did. 

Pansy struggled not to just collapse on the bed. She wanted more, and she couldn’t express it. As she let herself fall forward she pulled him with her. 

That tug had him laugh as he pulled out of her and vanished the covering from his length, letting himself fall into bed with her with a sigh as he caught his breath. “That was….”

“Mhmm,” she agreed, leaning back into him happily. Words were not something she could share right then. Not with him. Eyes closed, she turned to face him for a kiss.

Ron settled an arm around her and held her close to him as he kissed her gently. There was no point in denying her that, not after what they just did, and this was...nice. Surprisingly nice, but nice. 

It was easier to kiss him than she could have imagined. Without the pretenses, she could indulge in the way he felt. The warmth of his skin, the softness of his hair, she tried to ignore the fact that he was him, and that she was well, her.

A soft sigh left his lips before he brushed his lips to the corner of her mouth gently. She was soft, so soft. That wasn’t something he would have expected from a serpent. He lightly brushed some of her hair back from her face, tucking the locks behind her ear. 

It had a shiver ripple down her spine, an almost lazy look in her chocolate hues as she eyed him. “Careful,” she murmured in warning, swallowing down as she eyed his lips. “Might think you’re getting soft of me.” 

“....I could think of worse things,” he muttered as he let his eyes meet hers. 

Pansy flushed the slightest bit, not quite expecting that response. Instead she smoothed down his chest. “Don’t get too soft on me.” 

Ron chuckled slightly at that and let his fingers trace over her side, nipping at her bottom lip. “I wouldn’t dare.”

A soft moan escaped her at the sharpness of his teeth against the plumpness of her lip. “I’ll go freshen up,” she kissed his cheek before peeling away. 

“I’ll be here,” he drawled quietly as he watched her, laying back into the plush pillows with a rather satisfied looking smile. Well, tonight hadn’t been what he had expected but it was far from unpleasant. 

Once tucked in the adjoining room, she took a moment to clean up and breathe. Beneath her breast her heart was racing. Sex with the Weasel. She had had sex with Ronald Weasley, and worst of all, she was considering going straight back in there and doing it again.Tucking her curls behind her ears, she padded back to the bed.

Straddling him, she kept a hand on his chest to keep him down. Control, she needed some form of control. She traced him with her nails, almost a warning that the claws weren’t fully retracted. “This doesn’t change anything,” she half warned. She needed to make sure that was clear, that this was just another means to an end.

A shiver rolled through him under her careful touches of her nails as he looked up at her. Raising a brow at that purred statement he looked skeptical. “Does it not, Pansy? Because it could...if you wanted it to…” He offered carefully, wanting to make sure she didn’t claw the shit out of him if she got angry though. 

Where she had sought reassurance, he was disarming her again with that look, those words. Her brow furrowed. If she wanted? “You…” she started and closed her mouth to take a breath. “I don’t have a choice,” she reminded him gently, looking away to hide the heat that was building in her cheeks. Would she choose this? The answer scared her.

“Clearly you do have some sort of choice...the brat Slytherin prince is trying to. Why not you? I know your family likely wants you with a pureblood...I still am a pureblood wizard, Parkinson,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck a few strands of hair out of her face and behind her ear, letting his fingers brush along her jaw. 

She shivered at his touch. “You...want...me?” She asked, almost not believing it. Not truly. “Weren’t you chasing your ex just an hour ago?” She lifted a brow, swallowing down. Ruining moments was truly a gift. It wasn’t like his family would ever accept her. Not after everything. 

Looking back at her, he couldn’t help but raise a brow. “You’re smart, you’re pretty, you’re ambitious…I can’t exactly promise forever at the moment but trying to date you? I’d be willing to. And yeah, you were chasing your ex an hour ago too and yet we’re both here,” he pointed out. 

“I don’t chase,” she said flatly. “I didn’t help you out of emotion. Draco is my friend, and I love him as such, but I’ve been clear from the beginning he’s…” she stopped and sighed. “Are you asking me on a date?” She interrupted herself. 

That caused him to blink. The derailment of thought was not something he would have expected. Looking back at her, he smiled just a bit and leaned up to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Yes, I am.”

She looked at him, still shocked, but not denying the request. “Fine,” she said, somewhat shocked by the words escaping her lips. “Yes,” she corrected. “I’ll be home tomorrow,” she continued. “So I guess that gives you a couple days to come up with something let’s say Monday? Downtown London?” 

He smiled a bit more as that fine turned into a yes, his fingers stroking back through her hair as he looked her over. “Monday late afternoon? Auror training is still going on but they’re giving us a bit more time off as it gets closer to the holidays.”

“I do enjoy High Tea,” she nodded thoughtfully. “Or we can do some shopping before dinner,” she thought out loud. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something, and you do know how to get in touch,” she smirked. 

Pressing a kiss to her jaw and then slowly down the side of her neck, he smirked a bit. “I can be convinced to go shopping. Dinner would be nice too…” he trailed off and looked at her with a nod of his head. He certainly did. Those mirrors were actually going to continue to come in handy. 

That was already more than she could get out of Draco, and there weren’t any strings attached to it. Not really. It felt odd, like a trap. “You won’t mind your colleagues and family seeing me on your arm?” she asked with a perked brow. Sure, by Pureblood standards she was a catch, but that wasn’t exactly his entourage now was it? 

Looking right at Pansy, he lifted a brow. “They’ll be more shocked to see Hermione on Draco’s arm whenever that goes public. I don’t mind people seeing you on my arm...though I might ask you to try to not be nearly as snappy with my Mum whenever you meet her.”

That last sentence had Pansy swallow down. “You want me to meet your mother?” she asked, drawing abstract shapes on his chest. Her heart was definitely racing at that.

The tracing against his skin had him shiver lightly before he smiled a bit. “If this date goes well then probably sooner rather than later…family’s pretty important to me,” he explained with a slight shrug. 

“Is that so?” she asked, nipping at his jaw. “Family’s important to me too,” she responded gently. It was why she had been accepting her role as Mrs Malfoy, but was it so crazy to think of herself? For once?

“Mhmm. Can’t have this many siblings and not care about family,” he half joked. Though he kept lightly stroking his fingers through her hair as he looked at her, honestly kind of hoping the date went well. 

“Should I get back to my dorm to give you time to think, or…” she traced his cheekbone with a perfectly manicured finger.

Ron actually considered that carefully before he chuckled slightly. “If you want… I won’t be staying in the castle tonight. Harry and I are leaving a little after midnight.”

“So soon,” she replied. “Suppose that’s it for tonight then,” she sighed.

“For now,” he sighed as well. Honestly, if he could stay the night in the castle he would have. Just to spend a bit more time with her. 

She kissed his cheek. “I’ll send you an address tomorrow,” she murmured, pulling away to get dressed.

Ron couldn’t help but watch her for a moment, taking the time to actually enjoy the view. “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“Good,” she casually threw over her shoulder. “Zip me up?” she asked, holding her dress together.

Carefully getting out of bed, he pulled on his pants before he moved closer and zipped up her dress. “Of course.”

She held the front of her dress for a moment, closing her eyes as he helped her. At least she didn’t have to dress herself and leave like some one night stand in the dead of night. “Have time to walk me back?” she asked. “It’s on the way to fetch your friend,” she offered

He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder before he moved to start putting on the rest of his clothes. It would take him a little bit longer to get dressed, but he nodded his head. “I can. Especially since it’s on the way...but even if it wasn’t on the way...you asked nicely. Should actually support kind behavior.”

Pansy bit her lip, glad he couldn’t see the smile she concealed at his answer. She took a moment to school her expression before turning to look at him. “So chivalrous, perhaps I did teach you something,” she drawled.

Ron looked back at her and actually lifted a brow as he started to button his shirt, his pants already fastened again as he looked at her. “Gryffindors are supposed to be chivalrous…” he muttered before he actually smiled, an idea popping into his head. “Maybe I just needed to be chivalrous to the right person…”

She’d been about to counter when he spoke that last part. “Smooth,” she complimented. 

“I was bound to be eventually,” he chuckled as he put on his jacket before offering her his arm with a crooked smile. 

She adjusted his collar and smoothed his shirt before taking his arm. “You did have an excellent teacher,” she praised herself thoughtfully.

The attentiveness was actually kind of surprising, but he smiled at her as he moved for the door. “...I’ll agree.”

With a smug expression she walked beside him. If anything, at least she now knew how to enter the room of requirement.


	50. Private Party

Though there hadn’t been screaming, Draco had definitely not had a good chat with his family. Despite having tried to gain courage to speak his mind, he had downplayed things a little, if only to prevent his parents from showing up. An outcome that seemed more than possible as he had watched his mother react. He needed time to get what he needed to stake his claim. Most of all, he didn’t want to alienate his family in the process. As much as they might disagree, they were all he had left in the world, and through everything, they had been there for him as he had been for them. 

When he had pulled his head out of the flames, his cheeks were heated from a mix of the fire and the chat. His head was very much still attached to his body, thankfully. He would live another day.

Coming through the door of their common room, Hermione was letting down the rest of her hair with a sigh. She had talked with a few of the house elves, actually explaining a bit more of what was going on than might have been necessary, but it had them agreeing to take care of everything. Clearly Draco had been nice to them in his years here at Hogwarts and his kindness to them might be what made them start to trust her again. 

Her heels clicked across the floor as she crossed over to one of the arm chairs and took a seat with a soft sigh. Her chocolate hues glanced over to Draco with a small smile. “Well, I’m rather glad to see you didn’t go and die on me.”

Seeing her definitely helped his mood. “I make no promises come Christmas,” he replied, moving from the fireplace to drop himself on the nearby couch. “I might have extended my stay at the castle until the eve of Christmas Eve,” he smirked. That had been more aggravation for his mother than anything else she could process.

A bit brighter of an expression lit up her face as she got up and crossed over to him, moving to sit next to him on the couch. “You won’t hear me complaining about more time with you,” she stated. Especially not after thinking she’d be spending Christmas alone. 

“I hoped that would be the case,” he shifted, settling his head on her lap as he expanded on the rest of the couch. It would give him a bit of an edge when it came to negotiating an invitation for Hermione.

She brushed her fingers through his hair gently as she looked down at him with a raised brow. “Was that in question?”

His eyes closed as she played with his hair. It felt nice, made him feel warm and content. “Not really,” he opened an eye to look at her a moment.

“Good. I thought I’d have to make it even more clear. Not sure how explicit I can be with it,” she half teased as she continued to play with his hair gently as she looked at him. He looked so content there. 

“Communication does wonders,” he smirked, glancing up at her.

“Hmm, need me to state just how much I enjoy spending time with you?” She half teased but leaned down and kissed him gently.

Draco kissed her back easily, cupping her cheek as he did so. “I wouldn’t be opposed, though I meant for things in general…” he added, more so in regards to the conversation they’d had earlier.

Hermione almost melted into that gentleness as her lips brushed his gently again. “Oh…,” she murmured, that blush returning easily before she nodded her head. “I’ll remember to communicate. I’d like to avoid any misunderstandings.”

“Good,” he smiled. “I appreciate that.”

Stroking her fingers through her hair she just looked at him. There was a sense of peace to him that she enjoyed seeing. “...I appreciate you,” she replied. 

It wasn’t something he’d heard before, not in this sort of setting. “I appreciate you too,” he responded gently, lifting to claim her lips again, a bit more passionately this time.

Kissing him back just as deeply, she shivered gently and stayed close to him. Her fingers stroked through his hair and along the side of his neck. Before they could get too heated, the snap of House Elf magic could be heard and their table was laid out with food that likely was also appearing at the Yule party. 

He had been lost to her lips when the crack of an elf had him pull away with a sigh. A disappointment that was short lived at the spread that filled their table. With elf magic, it had been expanded and covered with bottomless dishes the Great Hall usually hosted. Mince pies, turkey, treacle fudge, and anything they might have otherwise missed.

“Did you promise never to knit another clothing item?” he asked her half jokingly.

Looking over at the table she actually laughed softly and shook her head, blushing faintly. “No, but I did bring up that you had missed dinner at the party due to a few mishaps…” she smiled. 

“I see,” he noted, offering her a hand. “I guess the only thing to do is properly enjoy it,” he responded as he led them towards it.

Taking his hand, she moved to stand and walked to the table with him. “Agreed. Rather glad I didn’t go straight to get out of my dress...”

“Gives me a chance to do it for you later,” he said, pulling a chair for her.

A bit more of a smile curved her lips at that as she looked up at him and moved to sit. “I can’t argue with that logic.”

After tucking her in, he took a seat within reach, settling food on his plate, and happily passing dishes.

Setting food on her own plate, she poured herself a glass of wine and passed that over to him as well, making sure that both of them had their plates built before she started eating. 

Draco had attended many dinners in his life, and tasted some of the best cuisine the country had to offer. Still, nothing compares to this moment. There was something easy and comforting of that moment. A familiar spread with new additions, the warmth of the hearth, and yet nothing quite compared to the brunette at his side. As he ate he did something he had caught his parents do on occasion when they thought themselves alone. His hand reached for hers gently.

Hermione took a bite of her food and a bit of the tension that had remained in her started to ease out of her shoulders. She was a little worried about what might come next, more than a little if she was honest, but she had a feeling that they could handle whatever it was that they’d have to face. They were the most capable of their year after all. Looking at his hand, she smiled gently and took his hand, lightly squeezing it. 

Her parents had done similar things at the dinner table before. It had been a small show of affection when they were in the middle of something. They had never done it in secret though, something she would be shocked to hear his parents only did when they thought they were alone. 

Everything felt so nice, he was almost afraid to speak. As though something as trivial as small talk would ruin the moment. How could he discuss anything from their day to day when this was so wonderful.

She didn’t want to say anything just yet either. Not yet. Her thumb brushed back and forth across the back of his hand as she took another bite of food. There was a softer expression on her face as she looked at him, letting herself simply enjoy his company without any interruptions or performances for others to be made. 

A few moments passed, and their plates grew a bit clearer with the silence. As he glanced her way, he got a few ideas he would put in motion. “We can have our own little party here,” he smirked.

Lifting her glass, she took a sip and couldn’t help but raise a curious brow as she looked at him. “Oh? And what would we do at our own little party?”

Draco set down cutlery to unsheathe his wand. With a careful set of motions, he had music playing through their common room. “We can dance,” he offered.

Hermione smiled as she set down the glass, the cutlery resting on her plate, as she moved to stand. “I’d love to dance with you.”

In some ways, it was like they got a snippet of a do over. Especially since he had, apparently, wanted to be with her back when the Yule Ball had happened.

Draco offered his hand and led her towards the center of the room. With a murmur of spells the furniture glided out of the way to afford them more space. “I’m glad to hear it,” he smiled. It was something they hadn’t had a chance to do the last time, and though he didn’t get to parade her about, this was nice as well.

Resting one hand on his shoulder, she stepped closer to him as she looked up at him. She felt more at ease with him like this than she would have expected. Safe. Valued. “I’m glad you asked. I’d have danced with you at the party too,” she reassured with a small smile. She wasn’t ashamed or uncomfortable about what they had. She just hoped his family wouldn’t interfere. 

“I might have too,” he replied honestly. It might not have been the best answer, but it was an honest one. Every move outside their tower had to be weighed and calculated. Just enough to not cause Narcissa’s wrath.

“I know. One day you’ll get to show me off,” she half teased as she moved to dance with him, letting him lead with careful steps. 

He tucked her a little closer as he slowly spun with her. “One day,” he vowed in a breath. One day he would properly show her off on his arm.

She pressed a light kiss to his jaw. “I believe you,” she promised him gently. Everything was still fragile. Each of their moves had to be calculated and while she didn’t like it, she understood it. 

It meant so much to hear her say that. To know that she believed him. That she trusted him. It had him pull her closer to lean the side of his face against hers.

The intimacy of that press had her close her eyes with a gentle sigh as she stayed close. He was starting to mean the world to her and part of that scared her. 

She felt warm against him. Beyond that, for just a moment, the world seemed to make sense with her at his side this way. As though every celestial body overhead aligned, and some deep existential truth had come to light. For the moment, he didn’t overthink it, not when he could still indulge without fear of repercussion. Tomorrow was another day to worry and fret.

Softly, Hermione started to hum to the music that was playing and her hand on his shoulder shifted so her fingers trailed up and down his shoulder lightly. There was no power around that could pull her away from him at the moment. Not when she fit perfectly with him like this. Only a few people _could_ interrupt and she knew that they wouldn’t with how busy right before the holidays were.

One song led to another, and before they knew it the night was growing older. Draco kept conversation light, if only to keep the mood so. For a few hours, he felt like any other young man within the castle walls. Not the byproduct of war that had left most of them scarred in some way or another. Even less that they had been on opposing ends.

“What would you like to do with the rest of our evening?” he asked, as he came to a halt, though the music continued to gently play in the background.

As they stopped, she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze with a smile. “Stay close to you, honestly. We can share a bed again…” she trailed off with a faint bit of pink in her cheeks. 

“Is that so?” he asked cheekily. “Mine or yours?” he asked, kissing up her cheek.

Turning her head, she caught his lips in a kiss. It was slow, but there was a restrained heat to it as she kissed him and let it build a bit further. After a few moments she nipped lightly at his bottom lip. “We’re often in my room....so yours.”

Even as she spoke he could still feel her lips lingering on his. It took him a moment to register the request. A nod was all he managed before kissing her again, slowly walking them back towards the staircase without breaking away.

Staying tangled with him was more than fine with Hermione. Her fingers moved to brush through his hair as they kissed, trusting him to guide them backwards to the staircase. Having him help her out of the dress was going to go better than getting herself out of it, after all. 

Draco kissed her a while longer, grinning as he put his next plan in motion. As he touched down her sides, he placed his hands and picked her up off the ground. When he looked at her, it was with a mix of heat and adoration.

A soft sound of surprise left Hermione’s lips as her arms tightened back around Draco before she laughed softly and grinned. That adoration made her heart melt for him and that heat had an answering spark of desire light through her. 

“Straight to bed, or bath?” he offered her.

“Mmm, a bath sounds nice,” she murmured and leaned in to kiss his neck.

Draco walked through his room straight to the adjoining chamber they bathed in. Once he set her down he silently orchestrated the spouts to life, water and bubbles beginning to fill the large basin. 

As he took care of the water, she unfastened the clips in her hair so the curls tumbled more fully down her back. She’d likely have to get her hair potion again in the morning but she’d worry about that later. 

It wasn’t long that he took off the layers of clothing he wore, sending them off to the hamper nearby.

“Think you can help me out of this?” She asked as she pulled her hair over her shoulder and turned her back to him. 

Tongue slicking over his lips he nodded. “Definitely.” His fingers were nimble against the fastenings of her dress, uncovering every inch of her skin to press a kiss to it.

The kisses had her shiver under his attentions as she eased the dress down her shoulders. The bra matched her dress, that same lovely shade of blue. After all of the fastenings were undone, she eased the dress slowly down her body and sent the dress back into her room. 

Draco took her in, enjoying the matching set she wore for a spell. He didn’t linger too long, claiming her lips in a heated kiss before working to rid her of the rest of her clothes.

Kissing him back, she easily let the bra slide down her arms and vanished that as well. Her own hands moved to her knickers and pushed them down her legs, stepping out of them as they kissed. 

As beautiful as she had been in that dress, the sight of her nude before him was one he enjoyed most of all. One he took shamelessly, gently touching her as he studied her lovely form.

Each time he looked at her like this she couldn’t help but blush, feeling a small surge of pride as well. He liked what he saw and it was rather obvious. One finger trailed down his chest slowly, dipping down to his hips before trailing right back up. 

He felt a chill at that gentle touch, not quite accustomed to such tender meetings of flesh. “Might not make it to the bath if we stay like this,” he admitted, slipping his pants down, exposing his stiff length to her. Still, he couldn’t stop touching her, keeping close to steal another kiss.

“Mmm, I think we can stay focused,” she murmured as her gaze drank him in for a moment before she kissed him back. There was more heat to this kiss than the previous one. That finger tracing him moved up to his collarbone, tracing there for a moment, before it dipped back down his body so her hand could wrap around his length. Her hand pumped over him twice slowly, her thumb brushing the tip of his length. 

Hermione broke the kiss, blushing a bit more but she had a cheeky smile as she pulled away and started to move into the bath ahead of him. 

Draco gladly followed, giving a sigh once he was shoulder deep into the warm bubbly water. He hadn’t realized just how much he had been carrying on his shoulders until he sat and allowed himself to relax.

Taking a seat in the bath, she sighed softly as she relaxed into the water. The bubbles smelled amazing and the company was fantastic. Watching as he continued to relax, she smiled even more. “Much better.”

Reaching to wrap an arm around her center, he slid her towards him so she would be in his lap. “Much,” he agreed, nuzzling against her neck with a sigh of contentment.

Settling in against him, her fingers brushed back through his hair and then down along the back of his neck and his shoulders, tracing him gently. She brushed her lips lightly against his cheek and nuzzled in against him. “Feeling better now?”

He nodded, still not pulling away just yet. Not when he felt at peace with her so close. 

Kissing along his jaw gently she nuzzled there with a soft sigh. “Good.” She was relieved. The tension in him had been something that had worried her. 

Pulling back, he watched her a moment with a small smile perking his lips. It was nice having someone who cares. Not the way Pansy or his mother could hover in an overbearing way. When they were this close, he felt like he could take on anything.

“This is even better than any party,” he murmured before claiming her lips. 

There was no argument from Hermione at that. While she did like the excuse to dress up on occasion, this was better. Kissing him back, she deepened the kiss as she held him close to her. 

It was easy to get lost like this, to merely focus on how soft her lips were against his. How warm her embrace was as he kept her close to his chest. He could feel his heart racing there, his breath growing more labored.

The temptation to do more was there, to tease him there in the bath, but she wanted to take her time with him again. There was no rush to go out and patrol, a very small chance of getting caught, and she simply enjoyed indulging in him. Her tongue traced his lower lip before she continued kissing him, getting a bit bolder with her actions with him. 

Draco was indulging, taking his time with her. They had all night, and for all he cared most of the next few days. Grinning, he licked her lip back, sucking it in before kissing her some more. Shifting to have her straddle him he traced her sides.

Hermione shivered, a soft gasp leaving her before he kissed her again. Kissing him back, she settled in his lap easily, pressing close to him so there was barely any space between them. Her hands trailed down his chest, tracing over him slowly. Each time she did this it was almost like she was trying to memorize his body with just her touch. 

This was nice, and a stark contrast to his conversation with his mother only moments prior. It made him glad he had her. Had this. “I like this,” he admitted between kisses. “Having you with me,” he nipped at her lower lip and eyed her before kissing her again.

A shiver rolled through her at the nip and she smiled a bit more, kissing him back a bit longer before she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. “I like being with you. And I’m glad I’ll be spending more of our winter break together.”

“Me too,” he nipped at her jawline. “After tomorrow, no more patrols,” he murmured. “Just us.” It felt like a dream.

“Mmm. Just us sounds fantastic,” she murmured, tracing over his shoulders and down along his arms. Hermione was careful though, knowing that he wouldn’t want anyone to touch the mark on his arm. 

She was so thoughtful in her touches, he didn’t fear her even coming close to his mark. He couldn’t blame her either for wanting to avoid it. Just as he tended to stay away from the scar his aunt had dug in hers.

“Shall we take this to bed?” he asked, nipping at her neck.

“Yes,” she breathed softly with a shiver, trailing her fingers back up his arms so she could wrap her arms around his neck. Leaning in, she pressed kisses and nips along his neck and the underside of his jaw. 

Draco held her close, kissing and nipping back as he did. He didn’t move just yet, taking a few more moments before rising with her in his arms. Once he was certain she was secure, he walked them out of the tub, summoning a towel for both of them to dry off before marching her to bed.

A soft sound of surprise left her again as he picked her up, still surprised he could carry her in the first place. Using the towel to dry herself off some, she did the same to him before she grinned as he carried her to his bed, actually rolling her hips into his teasingly as he carried her. 

“Eager,” he chided laughingly at that hip roll, pressing his hardened length against her before dropping her on the bed. He climbed in over her, pinning her to kiss her neck and tickle her sides.

“Are you complaining?” She couldn’t help but ask before she shivered. She huffed at the drop but then shivered at the kisses and squirmed under his tickling with a laugh. “No! Don’t do that,” she half pleaded. 

“This?” he asked, continuing to tickle her lightly, enjoying her laughter.

“That!” She exclaimed as she continued to laugh, squirming under his continued assault, pushing at him some. 

Seizing her wrists, he brought them over her head. “I suppose I could,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers.

Her breath hitched as he pinned her wrists over her head, cheeks flushing further. Looking up at him, there was a bit more heat in her gaze as her heart hammered in his chest. “...I’d appreciate it,” she breathed, trying to catch her breath. 

He slowly kissed along the side of her neck and across her shoulder. Shifting her wrists into one hand he smoothed over her body. 

“How about this, is this better,” he asked, tracing lightly around her nipple.

Keeping her wrists still in his grip, she felt her heart hammer as she watched him. Shivers rolled down her spine and she almost jerked under the touch. “Yes…”

“And this?” He trailed down her front, tracing around her navel before continuing his way down. Meeting her gaze he let his fingers barely touch her folds. She would look good tied to his bed, but this would do, just light teasing to encourage the idea.

Each brush of his fingers had her heart racing and it took a bit more control not to arch into his touch or try to squirm. She parted her legs a bit more for him as she chewed at her bottom lip before she nodded her head. “Much better.”

“You want me to touch you?” He asked, drawing her outer lips teasingly. He wondered just how far he could push. 

Flush filled her cheeks more as she met his gaze. “Yes...I love how you touch me.”

At that he couldn’t deny her, pressing his fingertips to her clit and drawing down to slip a finger into her. “I love touching you,” he admitted using that same word. A word he knew he felt for her, but still hadn’t spoken. Not yet.

As soon as he touched her, she gasped softly. Keeping herself still, she let her brown eyes meet his silver ones as she shivered. The echo of her words from him made butterflies flutter in her stomach. 

That stillness was delicious. “So warm and soft,” he praised as he teased, drawing a circle inside her.

A soft moan left her lips at the feeling and she tried not to squirm. The blush in her cheeks felt so warm, she was sure she had to be Gryffindor garnet. 

Draco kissed her heated cheek, enjoying the sight of it as his digit delved in and out of her, his thumb pressing against the hood of her folds. _Mine_ the single word occupied his mind as he enjoyed this moment. The way she abandoned herself to him, to bliss.

“Oh,” she gasped, the sound turning to a moan as her hips arched up into his touch. Her breathing was a bit more uneven as she looked at him, turning her head to catch his lips in a heated kiss. 

He welcomed those lips, kissing her deeply. Pulling his hand away from her he settled between her thighs. With the tip of his length he traced her, groaning at the slick warmth of her. 

Deepening the kiss with him, she shifted her wrists in his grip as she kept her legs spread for him. A soft moan left her at the feel of him there as well. 

Against his, her tongue felt like velvet, soft, warm, and inviting. Just like her folds felt more than welcoming. He didn’t push into her just yet, enjoying teasing them both a while longer. She was like the finest silk against his sensitive tip. And when he finally pushed forward, he groaned at the heat that enveloped him.

Each pass that had him teasing against her folds had her squirm a bit more under him as her breath hitched. She was more than ready for him and more than eager. Hermione didn’t even try to pull her hands out of his grip, despite the urge to touch him. As he filled her, she moaned against his lips as shivers rolled down her spine. 

Draco echoed her moan, rolling his hips into her in a slow and steady pace. It was hard to hold back from simply abandoning himself into her, but he wanted to take his time. He wanted to indulge in her.

“You feel so good,” he murmured.

“Do I,” she asked on a breath, shivers rolling through her. She shifted her wrists slightly in his grip, but didn’t tug. She trusted him. And this was...rather enthralling if she was honest. 

He traced her cheekbone with the tip of his nose. “So, so good,” he drawled, nipping along her jawline as he touched along the side of her body until his hand grasped one of her breasts into a firm squeeze.

“Draco,” she moaned, arching into his touch with a shiver. Her eyes fluttered closed and she had to hold back a whine. He felt so good and he knew just how to touch her. 

The way she spoke his name, it had his hips thrust more firmly into her. “Mmm Hermione,” he moaned back, lifting her hips up to allow him a deeper thrust.

Those harder thrusts had her moan, arching up into him. Nipping at his bottom lip she looked up at him, cheeks flushed and with a deep look of affection and lust in her expression. 

That look was enough to make him move mountains. He never believed in a thousand years Hermione Granger would ever look at him that way, not without some potion or spell. Yet there he was atop her, a look of pleasure and longing easily returned. There would be ample time to tell himself he didn’t deserve it, but not then. Not when she felt so fantastic.

If anyone had told her that she’d be under Draco Malfoy in such a pleasurable way she would have laughed. Now? She couldn’t stop the moans that left her lips as her head fell back against the pillows. “Please don’t stop,” she moaned. 

“Wasn’t planning to,” he promised with a groan, nipping at her jaw and down her neck. Every so often he ground into her, delving into her as far as he could. 

Those grinds had her hips arch up into him, attempting to answer his intensity. Her breathing was uneven and she tilted her head to allow him better access to her neck. “...Good…”

An understatement to how she felt like this. _Mine, mine, mine…_ his mind sang every time he filled her. Every writhe and squirm she made to bridge the gap between them a delicious reminder of how he had her completely at his mercy. 

The usually articulate young woman couldn’t have made words in that moment if someone had offered a thousand galleons. Her body responded to his, hips rolling to meet his thrusts and her head back against his pillows so she could watch him. Her chocolate hues were filled with pleasure, hazy with lust and….love. She felt it but feared saying it. Especially now. 

Every sound she made was more delicious than the next. Draco pulled as many from her as he could with every thrust of hip. She felt amazing around him, surrounding him with that heat. It was only made better by the way she looked at him. His silver hues looked over her with a warmth they seldom held.

Hermione couldn’t stop the moans even if she wanted to. They were getting louder and her body was starting to nearly tremble under his touches. If she wasn’t careful she was going to blurt out those words to him. 

The louder she grew, the tighter he felt. That tension building in him, tugging behind his navel as he too drew closer to the end. Still he held, wanting to take her with him over that edge.

“Draco,” she gasped, her wrists squirming slightly in his grip now as she tried not to arch again. After a few more thrusts of his hips, she moaned as her inner walls tightened around him. 

Her pleasure pulled his from him on a groan. His hand tightened around her wrists from the strain of his bliss, almost bruising in his pinning her. Quickly realizing it, he loosened his hold before moving away to brace himself on his forearm instead. His lips pressed kisses along her neck and shoulder, a tender apology as he gave a last few rolls of hips into her.

The tightening of his grip had her squirm, but she didn’t even whimper in pain. It simply added to the sensations she was feeling there with him. Those kisses had her shiver and her eyes slowly closed as another soft moan left her at those last few rolls of his hips, her own hips arching into him. “You’re...amazing,” she practically crooned. 

A grin spread against the side of her neck, Draco catching his breath before responding. “So are you,” he praised.

She shivered, feeling his smile as much as she could hear it as he spoke. One hand came up to brush through his hair, tracing down along the back of his neck and along his shoulders. It was nice to indulge in touching him again. Hermione had to bite the inside of her mouth lightly to keep herself from saying anything more. 

Draco lazily kissed her cheek as he slowly settled beside her to not smother her with his weight. His arm heavily draped over her, lips pressing another kiss to the tip of her shoulder. 

Hermione rolled so she could press in against him a bit more, wanting to be as close to him as she could. She didn’t know how long they’d have after break. His family couldn’t be happy with it and despite knowing this relationship likely had an expiration date...she couldn’t convince herself to pull away or even attempt to shield her heart. 

Feeling her against him, he brought her in closer, tucking her into his chest. Where anyone else would have been pushed away, he didn’t shy from her affection. If anything, he had longed for it, and reveled in it.

The L word was bubbling up and she had to keep biting it back so she didn’t say it. The last thing she wanted to do was say something she was certain he couldn’t feel yet and she shouldn’t feel yet. Keeping an arm around him, she pressed a kiss to his chest as her eyes closed on a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We always appreciate feedback and comments. Today, we ask you a little something. We have given you some Ronsy, and that has seemed to be enjoyable to a number of you. When we originally wrote out the basis for this story, we had some Narcissa/Lucius written out. Rather than impose this on you, we figured we would leave it up to you. If this ship interests you (or doesn't), please say so below! If we do post Narcissa/Lucius, we would warn at the top of the chapters like we do with Ronsy giving you the choice to read or not. The idea is to add to the story, without making anyone feel like they missed anything if they chose to skip it <3
> 
> Anywho, let us know your thoughts please!


	51. Tangles & Baubles

After the last of the students were aboard the train, Draco, and the remaining prefects staying behind were mostly free of their duties. They would still need to patrol and help keep the peace, but nothing as thorough as during normal times. Even staff got to relax here and there, and though the yuletide came with homework and studying, it also offered a reprieve. Time to gather and spend time with loved ones. 

That was what Draco had in mind as he meandered the grounds to find someone he hadn’t been likely to cross, even less ask help from. Still, he had made it past the bridge and through the pumpkin patch to the small cottage he had seen set ablaze no more than a year ago.

He wasn’t sure he deserved the assistance he got, but Hagrid had agreed to not only have what he asked for delivered, but to also ensure Hermione would be entertained while it was put together and brought up by the elves.

With his hands in his pockets, he had made it back from the grounds to the tower. Thankfully there was no one there, not that he expected the Gryffindor to be around when she had things to do, and would soon have Hagrid to keep her entertained as he got the basics handled.

After the elves had brought a stack of boxes taller than himself, he had set to work. One after the other, he opened the boxes. Ornaments, wreaths, garlands, and baubles. As he began sorting through it all, more elves came, this lot with a tree in tow that still had snow stuck in its bows. Obviously freshly cut, a gift he was certain was from the groundskeeper he’d called an oaf more times than his actual name.

Though it was still a work in progress, he promised himself to make sure to call the half-giant Hagrid from now on. Especially after how graciously he helped him. Of course, he knew it was all for Hermione, which meant they were both on the same side.

Hermione had been on the grounds when Hagrid had found her, asking her to help him reorganize and untangle his own decorations for his hut. She had hot chocolate with him, spent some time with Fang, and assured Hagrid that she’d try to come by more often before she headed back to their common room. 

It had been a few hours since the last students that wouldn’t be staying on campus had left and the castle was much quieter. There were ghosts discussing things in the halls and she was in the process of unwinding her scarf and pulling off her gloves as she entered through the portrait and into their common room. 

“I’m back,” she started before she froze midstep, her gaze moving over all of the decorations that were being put up. 

Draco was tangled in a particularly thick garland that had been stored haphazardly when he heard her voice. “So soon,” he delivered the words almost apologetically. Decorating hadn’t been something he’d done himself. Narcissa had always been in charge, and the elves did most of the work. It was something he'd been taught was beneath him. Whether it was a bout of rebellion or just a need to do something that meant something for her, he couldn't quite say. Both he decided on the spot.

Looking over at him, the smile she offered was luminous. Striding over, she helped get him untangled from the garland with a soft laugh. “I could have helped, but I appreciate the surprise. You’re sweet.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” he chuckled, pulling her in closer once he was rid of the garland. “Probably should have let the elves handle it,."

Wrapping her arms around him she chuckled. “But this is better, we can do it together now,” she encouraged before kissing his cheek lightly. “It’s also something...familiar to me. I used to help my family with the tree every year I was home.” 

Hands settling on her hips, he pulled her in and smiled as her lips lingered on his cheek. “You did?” he asked, finding it curious and fascinating. He guessed muggles did have to do everything by hand. “Of course you did,” he said, claiming her lips in a soft brush. 

Kissing him back gently, she brushed her fingers along the back of his neck gently. “I did. It was nice. I think I might have a few ornaments with me I could add to the tree…”

“Get them,” he responded gently, trailing along the sides of her spine before giving her room to step out of his embrace. “I’ll try to fix some of this.” He reached for his wand.

“I’ll be right back then,” she promised before she pressed a light kiss to his lips before leaving his arms and went up to her room. All of those ornaments were still in her charmed bag. 

His gaze lingered on her as she went to her room. Only when she was out of sight did he turn to handle the mess before him. A detangling spell and a mix of levitation and sticky charms helped him get garlands and other decorations up, and off the floor. 

Taking the time to change, Hermione didn’t come back down until she was in a pair of shorts and her garnet jumper with her hair loose around her face. It was a little bushier, but she didn’t seem to mind as she came down with that small box balanced on her hip as she came back into their common room. 

“Does your family have any specific ornaments they put on their tree?” 

“Depends on the year,” he responded honestly, taking in the change in attire. It made him feel slightly overdressed, but then, he usually was. It was an odd feeling to have, not something he was accustomed to in the slightest. “Last year’s theme was peacocks. So everything on the tree fit the theme.”

“Peacocks? An interesting theme for Christmas, but I’m sure that it was pretty,” she replied thoughtfully as she put down the small box on the table and opened it. 

He watched over the box. “It was nice,” he agreed. He hadn’t really taken notice of those things before. “Does your family not theme their holidays?” he asked.

“We can, but it’s more around colors rather than larger themes...though we always found a way to get all of our Hogwarts ornaments on the tree."

She pulled out one that held the Hogwarts crest, and one for each of the houses. A sight that shocked the blond beside her. It seemed so opposite to any Gryffindor, or student outside of his house to do. He was used to hatred for his house. He doubted the kindest of Hufflepuffs would have an opposing house ornament, especially around Quidditch season.

“You put a Slytherin ornament in your tree?” he asked skeptically.

“You seem to forget that of the trio, I kept trying to push for house cooperation. After second year I almost got them to remove it, but I never hated your house. Just what some people did,” she explained as she glanced at the tree. 

Though the words made sense to him, he wasn’t really sure how to take them, or how to feel about it. “I guess I do,” he admitted. “Guess you’ll never cease to surprise me,” he offered instead. 

Hermione chuckled and smiled over at him. “Guess that means you’ll never be bored with me around,” she half joked as she picked up the Gryffindor and Slytherin ornaments and walked over to the tree, trying to find the perfect place to put them. 

“You really think I could get bored with you?” he asked.

The honesty of that question almost made her fidget and she gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “It could happen…” she trailed off, still trying to sound nonchalant about it. 

Draco reached for her hand and pulled her in close. He tucked strands of chestnut behind her ear and caught her gaze. “Doubtfully,” he assured her. “I don’t think it’s possible."  
Blushing a little, she offered a half smile as she looked up at him. “Yeah? I find that rather reassuring.”

“I’m glad you’re reassured,” he smirked, nipping her lower lip.

“Very reassured,” she laughed softly and traced her fingers up and down his side. “Especially since you’re spending the holidays with me.”

He had plans for her, for them. “I am,” he agreed. “And I’m eager to have you all to myself.” He pulled away to reach for an ornament.

Hermione almost pouted as he pulled away, but she went back to place the Slytherin and Gryffindor ornaments near each other. “It sounds like you have something in mind.”

“I always have something in mind,” he smirked. His plotting skills were perhaps second to Pansy’s. Still, he had gotten gifts, and had them wrapped, even the elves were surely hard at work on a small feast for their breakfast.

“I look forward to seeing what you planned. I’m sure I’ll enjoy every moment of it,” she grinned as she moved to grab a few more ornaments. It was going to be nice to decorate the common room a bit more with him. Maybe they could also enjoy the snow covered grounds together a bit later. 

He slipped his arms around her from behind after a few more ornaments were put in. “And did you have any plans or requests?” he asked. Though he had ideas, he didn’t want to completely exclude her from the process, which was new to him. All of this was new to him.

Leaning back into him, one of her arms wrapped over his to keep him holding her. This was nice. If someone had told her that it would be easy to be around Draco Malfoy she would have laughed. “Well...with less eyes on us we could walk the grounds. Reading by the fire also sounds nice.”

Stomping through snow didn’t sound overly appealing, yet contrasting it with her second suggestion felt more agreeable. “That can be arranged.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that. Curling up with you by the fire with a good book sounds perfect,” she said, turning her head to press a kiss to his jaw lightly. 

A thought he was more than pleased to make happen. “We could read something tonight,” he responded, shifting to give her better access to him.

Trailing her lips along his jaw and slowly towards his neck she nodded her head. “I’d like that. Sounds like a great way to start break.”

“Agreed.”

Draco closed his eyes, indulging in the warmth of her lips as she kissed him. He gently touched over her shoulders and down her sides.

A shiver rolled down her spine as she relaxed into his touch, pressing a kiss to his neck again and nuzzled there. 

He kept her close, inhaling the light perfume that lingered in her hair. The lavender from her tonics, and the old book smell that seemed to cling to her. He reveled in it, in her. Gently, he touched her, petting her hair, down her back, along her sides. Any small piece of her he could brush.

Each brush of his hands over her skin had her sigh softly against his neck as she nuzzled there. Her eyes slowly fell closed, a flick of her wand as she drew it from her pocket putting the rest of the ornaments up on the tree. Pulling out of his arms was not something she was willing to do right then.

Draco could feel the magic in the air as the rest of the ornaments tucked themselves in the tree. It was electric, like every time his skin brushed against Hermione’s. “I’d say we have everything set up to get started on a book,” he offered, his voice barely above the crackle of fire in the hearth.

She nodded her agreement as she tucked her wand back into her pocket. “I like the sound of that...who gets to choose the first book?” First book. They both read pretty steadily and she didn’t have to worry about reading ahead of him like she did with some of her friends. 

“I think I do,” he smirked, summoning a book from the shelf. “Couch or floor?” He asked, prepared to shift pillows and throws accordingly.

“Floor. Closer to the fire this time,” she requested as she turned in his arms and pressed a light kiss to his lips. 

With a wave of his wand, he sent plump cushions to the floor in front of the fire. Blankets falling heavily beside them. “After you,” he motioned, 

Hermione paused just to kiss his cheek before she pulled away from him. Finding a spot close to the fire, she took her seat and folded her legs under her, nestling into the plump cushions and blankets there. 

Draco sunk beside her, settling their book down to better settle in beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, and draped blankets over them. Once settled, he reached for the book. “Ready?” he asked.

Nestling in against him the way she did, she nodded her head as she relaxed. This was the coziest, and the safest, she had felt since the war. “Ready,” she answered quietly, not wanting to break the serenity of their moment here. 

Opening the book to the first page of the first chapter, Draco began to read over her shoulder. It was a tome he’d enjoyed before the war. A tale of Merlin he was certain Hermione had never read before. After all, she had said she enjoyed Arthurian legends once upon a time in a library.

Reading there with him, she stayed in his arms as she smiled. Anything to do with Arthurian legend fascinated her, so he had made an excellent decision to keep her occupied and still there with him. The crackling of the fire and the sound of him breathing was all the comfort she needed right then. 

As a child the tales of Merlin and Salazar Slytherin were highly encouraged, and this tome, although not as vicious towards Muggles as his father might have pushed, showed likes of magic most likely to be taught at Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts. A mistake Draco had always echoed from his father. Hogwarts was so focused on protection and sometimes in the sense of protecting its students so much, it left the vulnerables to the extent of magic.

There was so much she still didn’t know about Merlin and books like these had her fascinated and enraptured. It almost made her wish she had parchment and ink to actually take notes on these things. Later she would look into this a bit more. 

Draco shifted to press closer to her, resting against her shoulder a bit more. This was nice. The fire, how perfectly they read together, fit together. When the latest chapter ended, he kissed along the side of her neck and across her shoulder.

Shivers rolled down her spine at his attention, having her almost melt in against him further. It made her wish that she hadn’t changed into her jumper. Looking up at him from the corner of her eyes she smiled. “Can I help you, Malfoy?” She drawled almost teasingly. 

“Actually,” he shifted to take her in, to meet her gaze and watch her lips. “I think you might be able to,” he responded with a bit of a grin. The way his lips shifted and his gaze lingered suggested he had a few plans that involved neither reading nor clothing.

Heat started to roll through her at that look, making her heart beat faster in her chest as she looked at him. “I think I can be convinced,” she breathed as her gaze drank him in and her gaze dropped down to his lips. 

“I have to convince you now?” He asked, a smirk on his lips as an eyebrow rose in question. A soft sound escaped him as he gave himself a moment to think. 

“Mmm, a little. I was enjoying the book,” she teased. There was a bit of mischief that showed in her eyes though, clearly more than willing to give up the book to give him attention. 

Draco traced along her jaw with soft fingertips. “It is a rather compelling story,” he agreed in an undertone. “Though nothing is as appealing as you are,” he nearly purred.

Hermione blushed a little at that tone paired with the compliment. He could be quite the charmer and it made her heart start to race in her chest again. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he reiterated, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. 

“I’m not sure about that,” she breathed before she leaned in and kissed him gently. 

The moment their lips touched, he pushed back a bit more forcefully, needing more of her. A hand cupped her cheek while the other found the crook in her side.

A soft gasp left her at that increased force and intensity, but she didn’t dare pull away. She kissed him back and let her fingers brush through his hair and down along the back of his neck as she moved to face him a bit more easily. 

Those touches had his spine tingle. Draco deepened the exchange, beckoning her tongue with his. Every touch an expression of his desire for her, a silent plea for what he longed for.

Parting her lips for him, she let him delve deeper with her. There was only a moment’s hesitation before she moved, shifting through the blankets to straddle him and press closer to him. She was more than convinced to stop reading. 

Draco touched down her sides and over her thighs now that she was far more at his disposal like this. A grin could be felt through his kisses as he continued to maintain that proximity. It wasn’t long before he started easing her shirt up.

Hermione shivered at those light brushes of his fingers, only breaking the kiss to let him pull the jumper off of her. It was warm enough in their common room that the only thing under it had been a bra. Her fingers moved to him though, down his chest to start easing up his own shirt. 

As she worked her way down the buttons of his shirt, he let his fingers roam her body, along the edges of her bra, along the straps and down her back. His lips peppered the side of her neck, smearing kisses as he made his way back to her lips.

It felt like she was burning up and it had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the hearth. As she got to the last buttons, she pushed the shirt back down his arms and met his gaze as he drew closer to her lips. She was flushed, still a little out of her depth when it came to this, but she didn’t let that stop her from claiming his lips with her own in a heated kiss. 

Draco met those lips without restraint, his focus returning to her after shedding his shirt. With nimble fingers he released the clasps of her bra, sliding its straps down her shoulders to help it find its way to the floor.

One of her hands made its way into his hair after she slipped it out of the strap of her bra. Her other hand dropped the bra off to the side before she traced over his bare chest. She never knew that anyone could make her feel like she needed to be closer to them most of the time. 

Moments like these were new to Draco. That deep pull from her he felt. Where sex was easy, and something he was well versed in, this level of intimacy was new to him. Every time she touched his hair, he felt like his skin hummed for her. It had him touching her, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipple without ever breaking that kiss. 

A soft gasp left her lips as he teased her, arching into his hand as her grip on him tightened. Her heart felt like it was drumming out of her chest and all she wanted was to be closer. All of this was new to her, the deep desire, the feeling of belonging, and that intense intimacy. 

Beneath his palms, he swore he could feel her heart beating, and he couldn’t help but feel pride at the thought that it was for him. Perhaps it was callous, even egotistical, but he liked the idea that the physical responses she had from her heart to her breath was all at his hand. Draco deepened the kiss as he smoothed his way down her body, to her hips, then her thighs, and then back up again to tease her through the layers of fabric between them.

The blush in her cheeks got brighter as she broke the kiss for just a moment to catch her breath. Her forehead rested against his as her fingers traced along his chest. Once one hand was down at his waist, she traced the line right above his trousers. “I really like helping you this way,” she almost giggled before her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. 

“You do, do you?” he asked with a smirk, his lips a shade darker from all the kissing. With the tip of his finger he traced her jaw before lifting her chin. His thumb smoothed over her lower lip. “I can think of so many ways you can help me,” he retorted, trying not to get ahead of himself as various visions of her flickered through his mind.

Staying where he lifted her chin, she kept his gaze. Her fingers traced along his waist, back and forth across him in slow circuits. “...I’m open to suggestions,” she breathed, lighting biting on her bottom lip. 

Those words had the skin on the back of his neck tingle with delight. He claimed her lips in a short gentle kiss. “Like putting those plump lips to another use?” he asked cheekily.

The blush bloomed a brighter red in her cheeks, though she let her fingers trace over the button of his trousers. “If you’re patient with me, I’ll try it,” she offered even as nervousness thrummed through her. 

Draco nodded as he brushed the heat over her cheeks. She had barely touched him, and he already felt beyond aroused. “I can be patient,” he promised, studying her features.

At that reassurance, she kissed him gently as her fingers easily unfastened his trousers and pulled down the zip. She moved out of his lap and brushed her hair back from her face, but remained on her knees. “You’ll need to get up so I can get this off completely,” she reminded, her fingers tracing up and down his thigh even as her pulse seemed to quicken further. 

At that he nodded, swallowing down as he stood up. It was one thing to have some witch before him, but Hermione Granger was no ordinary witch. As much as he wanted to speak, he feared any attempt would ruin the moment.

Swallowing down any fear about this she moved her hands back to his waist and pulled down his trousers as well as any pants underneath with it. Allowing him a chance to step out of them, one hand wrapped around his length, stroking over him. Focusing on his length rather than his face, knowing just how much she’d blush if she looked up right now, she placed a kiss to the tip and gave him an experimental lick. 

Freed from the remainder of his clothing, he watched as she seized him. He ran his fingers through her hair and pushed the locks back as she kissed and licked him. Of course he knew this was new to her, but so far he couldn’t say he had any complaints. Not when she looked so good like this doting on him.

The touches helped her relax, a little bit of that nervous tension melting away. She placed kisses along his length before she licked from base to tip, testing to see how he responded. Her years of reading actually helped a little bit here. Not that she’d be telling Draco that anytime soon. Taking in a slow breath, she parted her lips and began taking him into her mouth, sucking just the tip for a moment. 

Those kisses pursued that intimacy he was so unaccustomed to, leaving him equally lost as she was. Part of him regretted his knowledge, if only to have missed this, the part where it mattered between two people. A thought that only shifted as she parted those lips to begin taking him in, causing a soft moan to leave him. Beneath his breast, his heart raced, lips parting as she teased him. He tried to touch her, to help ease whatever insecurities she might feel.

Each of those brushes of his fingers in her hair had her relaxing as she took more of him into her mouth. It was slow. Hermione only took a little bit more of him in, drew back to suck and brush over him with her tongue, and then took in a little bit more of him. Her hand stroked over what wasn’t in her mouth, slowly looking up at him through her lashes as she took in more of him again. 

He could see her demeanor shifting under his attention, the way she seemed to grow more confident with every silent encouragement. Around his sensitive tip, her mouth felt so warm. “So good,” he praised her, meeting her gaze. Did she know how hard it was for him not to thrust into her when she looked at him that way? He swore it took every ounce of will just to stop his knees from giving in.

The smile she had shown in her chocolate hues as she looked up at him. As she pulled off of him some, her tongue swirled around the tip before she took even more of him into her mouth. Her hand stroked over his length while the other rested along his hip. This was an interesting act, one she didn’t really mind. 

Between her tongue and the way she took him in even deeper, Draco groaned, meeting those grinning hues with a lustful stare. The fingers that combed through her locks curled against her scalp as he struggled to keep himself steady.

Slowly, she started to build a rhythm. She was keeping a steady pace as she adjusted to that, though anytime she got close to gagging she drew back to give further attention to the tip of his length. 

“Hermione,” he moaned under his breath in encouragement, not trusting himself to speak more than her name. Merlin, she felt good like this, looked amazing. All he wanted was to take her to bed, but even he knew he wouldn’t be able to.

That sent a shiver down her spine as she kept her gaze up on him for a moment, her nails lightly digging into his hip as she continued. She almost got carried away, having to pull back as she started to gag. Overconfidence would end up being a bit more detrimental than she would have liked. 

Even when she gagged she was amazing. The way it felt, that look she got. “So good,” he praised, not quite able to form a sentence. “Such a good girl,” he groaned. His good girl. “I want you,” he closed his eyes, struggling to keep himself from thrusting into her mouth.

Her soft hum of contentment at the praise added a bit of a vibration to her sucking. Slowly pulling off of him, she looked up at him as she took in a deep breath. “...And how do you want me?” She couldn’t help but ask, sounding a little breathy. 

Draco watched her a moment before responding. “Get up and find out,” he demanded.

The demand made her shiver but she smiled a bit more and pushed herself up off of her knees. Still left in her shorts, she felt just a little overdressed now. 

The moment she was up, he claimed her lips with a near feral need. Her shorts and undergarments quickly reached for to help ease them off her person. Draco needed that feel of flesh against flesh, to have her so close their hearts echoed each other through their chests. 

“You rather the floor or the couch?” He offered with a wry smirk.

She stepped out of her shorts and her knickers rather quickly, kicking them aside with her foot as she kissed him back. Her arms went back around him, blushing deeply still. “There’s more room on the floor...and all those cushions are still here for us.”

Not needing any convincing, he claimed her lips in agreement. As he deepened the exchange, he pulled her up into his arms so he could set her down near the discarded book, settling between her thighs as he did. Between them, he reached to touch her, his fingers parting her folds to ensure she felt that need as much as he did.

Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist as he picked her up, laying back easily in the blankets and cushions that were on the floor near the hearth. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she kissed him back, though as he touched her she moaned, her legs falling further apart for him. She was already wet. Those terms of endearment and encouragement having helped build her further. 

Draco didn’t spend too long teasing her with his fingers, not when he could do so with his slickened tip. Merely feeling her warmth against him had the Slytherin Head Boy moan. In a single stroke he sheathed himself into her, pulling his face back to watch her. A mix of lust and appreciation glossing his silver gaze.

Hermione almost squirmed there beneath him, her fingers brushing over his shoulders, down his back. As he thrust into her with that one stroke, she gasped, her hips arching up into him some. As much lust showed in her chocolate gaze, something else showed there as well, a depth of emotion she hadn’t said out loud. 

Having her like this, feeling her this way, it was more than any fantasy had prepared him for. Soft sounds of pleasure escaped with his labored breaths as he began filling her with a slow and steady pace.

“Draco,” she moaned, her nails lightly digging into his shoulders as she rolled her hips to meet each of those slow thrusts. Her breath hitched slightly as she kept his gaze. 

His name fell from her lips and rippled over his flesh, making it rise with goosebumps. When she called to him that way, a part of him claimed her with his mind, acknowledging that she was his witch. It was in such moments he could acknowledge just how far he would go to ensure she remained just that: _his_.

“Oh Hermione,” he moaned.

She shivered, feeling like she belonged and was accepted. The sounds of his moans just built her higher. Her cheeks were dusted red and she couldn’t help but nip at his jaw. While vocal everywhere else, she was still building her confidence here. 

With every nip and glance at those rosy cheeks, Draco felt his hold on self control growing weaker by the second. Quickly adjusting her, he rolled his hips into her a bit more firmly, his pace quickening as he yearned to find bliss deep between her thighs.

As he thrust into her harder, her moans got a bit louder and her nails dug into his back. This time getting to touch him was enjoyable, not that him pinning her hadn’t been. The thought of that actually made her shiver. 

Leaning in so his lips were just beside her ear, he let out a soft groan of pleasure before speaking. “You feel amazing like this,” he praised, enjoying her more vocal notes.

“You feel...so good inside me,” she gasped. Arching her hips up into him, her nails lightly dragged down his back. She wanted more. Each stroke of his hips and answering roll of hers was building her up higher. 

“Mmmm, yeah?” he asked, trying not to falter in his motions, saving face with a harsher thrust forward.

“Y-yes,” she moaned, her words and breath faltering at that harsher thrust. Rather than finding any discomfort in it, she wanted more and she could feel herself tittering close to that edge. 

The way she spoke and sounded, he couldn’t help but wonder if she liked it harder. “You liked that?” he asked, repeating the motion. An experiment of sorts he didn’t mind repeating if she so wished it.

That repeated motion made her arch into him as she nodded her head, blushing rather brightly. “...Yes,” she breathed the words, lightly biting down on her bottom lip. 

Did she even realize how delicious she was? Draco set into that firmer pace, drilling her into the cushions covering the floor. His breath grew labored with the added effort, but he didn’t stop or falter in his motions.

Her head fell back against the cushions on a louder moan. Hermione’s nails dug into his back a bit more, spurring him on without words as her hips rolled to meet those harder thrusts. “I…” whatever words she was about to say got lost in a whimper of a moan. She was balancing on that edge and only needed a little more to fall over the edge. 

Draco nodded, pursuing his motions and adding a grind to his thrusts. Seeing her like this, completely abandoned to the pleasure he caused, he reveled in it. “Me too,” he moaned, feeling that tightness in his gut as he met her over and over again.

It was hard to get a full breath. That pleasure kept building as he thrust inside of her. Her heart beat hammered in her chest and she only lasted another few thrusts before she cried out his name, her inner walls tightening around him. 

Over and over, he continued to fill her, pushing through her climax until his own came forth. He only managed a few more thrusts before keeping himself deep inside of her, pressing kisses where her neck met her shoulder, appeased for the moment. Merlin, she felt good.

The continued thrusts through her climax made her whimper, feeling oversensitive at the contact. She trembled under that attention until she stroked her fingers through his hair, tracing along his shoulders. If she said a words she knew what she’d say. Those feelings were welling up rather rapidly. 

Draco shivered from her touches, nipping at her shoulder to stop himself from saying something he might regret. Beneath his breast his heart still raced as he tried to get himself under control.

Those nips had her gasp softly before she smiled a bit more. Turning his face so he was looking at her, she claimed his lips gently. It was a slow kiss, more emotion in it than she wanted to think about but it was kiss him or say something. 

Where he had expected a harsher kiss, Draco didn’t fight the tenderness of the exchange. He embraced it, just as he embraced her. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her with him as he rolled them to lay side by side. There was a chill in the air that the fire did its best to remedy. Soon he’d have to get a blanket, if only to keep her warm, though he wasn’t ready to stop touching her just yet.

The returned tenderness and gentleness had her melt further there with him. Even with the mild chill, she wasn’t about to move away from him for anything. Pressing close to him, actually tucking in against his chest so she could hear his heart beating there. Her fingers brushed along his side as she took in a slow breath. Hermione took a moment to peak up at him, that raw and vulnerable emotion easily seen in her chocolate hues for a moment. 

The loss of her lips had Draco opening his eyes to look at her, not quite ready for what he met there. It made his cheeks dust in pink and his throat constrict. For years he had wanted to see that gaze directed at him so tenderly, and right then and there, it was both exhilarating and terrifying. Still, he kept her close, brushing her cheeks with his fingertips.

The blush was charming to see on his face, though she pressed her cheek into those gentle touches with a soft sigh. Still, she held her tongue. Saying it out loud would make it more real than it already was and his family could rip it away from them. She knew it and yet she was falling harder all the time. 

“Perhaps we should go to bed,” he finally spoke, making no motion to leave. If anything he kept her closer, his legs tangled with hers. “Blankets, pillows, and a plump mattress,” he listed with a smirk. 

A soft laugh left her at that, her fingers stroking from his side to slowly trace up his chest, ghosting over the scar there. “Bed with you sounds nice…,” she finally managed before kissing him gently again. 

Draco easily greeted those lips, keeping her a while longer before easing her up with him. 

“Mine or yours?”

Hermione let out a soft sound of protest at the movement, but she sighed and moved with him easily enough. 

“Mine this time.” 

Once at the landing he made his way to her quarters, making himself comfortable beneath her sheets, and making room for her to join. Moving with him, she easily moved to slip beneath her sheets and comforter next to him and moved closer so she could curl up in his arms again. All she wanted was that closeness, craved it. Draco took her in his embrace, keeping her tucked against his chest. It was almost possessive in nature, and again that voice in his mind sung the words. _Mine, mine, mine._

Hermione sighed softly as she closed her eyes, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. Her voice a soft whisper against his skin. “...Love you.”


	52. Reservations

Being an occlumens meant that even in sleep, it was rare for Draco to lose control. Though he often ceded it as he slept beside the brunette, he hadn’t been able to that night. Not when he could have sworn he had heard two very distinct words. Two words he never thought he would hear from the witch beside him. She couldn’t...no, it was ridiculous. After everything he had put her through, all that they had been through, no one in their right mind could ever truly feel that way. At least, that had been the conclusion he had come to before falling prey to actual sleep, allowing himself a few hours of rest. 

It was nearly eleven when he woke, the brunette still tucked warmly against his chest. A sight he knew he would never grow tired of. Arm snaking around her, he let his hand travel down her warm skin, letting it rest between her thighs as he gently kissed the back of her neck. 

In the night she had turned so her back was to his chest. A sigh left her lips as he kept her close. She was slowly starting to wake up, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to get up just yet. Not after he ignored what she said last night...Hermione was rather certain he had still been awake, after all. A shiver rolled through her at that kiss to her neck, shifting her legs slightly with where his hand rested. 

Draco refused to get up just yet, indulging in how warm she felt. Slowly, his fingers inched lower, slipping between her folds. He gave her clit a slow circular brush with the pad of his digit while he trailed kisses along her shoulder. Behind her, he could feel himself firm against the warm cushion of her posterior.

A soft gasp left her lips and she pressed back against him, her legs parting a bit more for him. Those touches having desire start to light through her as she started to wake up. There was no rush to leave the bed, nothing that they _had_ to do today. It made starting the day this way even more tempting. 

The more she accepted his touches, the further he pushed. He teased and kissed her, rolling his hips against her as his own desire grew. He wanted to be so much closer to her. A silent response to the words that had haunted him most of his night.

The roll of his hips had hers grind back against him as a soft moan left her lips. She turned her head, her lips brushing his jaw. Her voice was still heavy with sleep, but her growing desire was more than apparent. “Morning…”

“Morning,” he responded, his fingers slipping in and out of her in a slow teasing motion. Leaning forward he kissed her lips, beckoning her tongue with his.

Kissing him back, she let her tongue delve into his mouth as she ground back against him slowly. A muffled moan left her lips as she stayed pressed close to him. This was a much better way to wake up. 

Draco pulled his hand away to lift her leg and bring her close to him. Not once did he break the kiss as he aligned himself, pushing against her. If he could wake like this every morning, he knew he’d be a better wizard for it.

Hermione almost whined as he drew his hand away, but as he pressed against her she gasped. Pressing her hips back against him, she deepened the kiss a bit further and shivered under his attentions. She wanted more. 

At first his thrusts were slow, almost lazy as he met her lips tenderly. This was better than any tea or coffee to wake him up, of that he was certain. Slowly his hand moved from her hips upwards, exploring her until he cupped her breast, giving it a squeeze to match the firmer push into her. She had been so responsive the night before, it seemed only fitting.

The Gryffindor Head Girl had no problem letting him take control of the situation. The lazy thrusts had that kiss staying tender and slow, pressing back into him some. The firmer thrust had her breath hitch and had her grinding back into him some with a soft whimper into his mouth. 

“Turn with me and grip the headboard,” he demanded in an undertone, not wanting to be limited in his attempts to pull more of that sound from her.

Nodding her head, she bit down on her bottom lip, easily moving with him as he turned. Reaching up, she gripped the headboard and glanced back over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks were flushed and that lazy sleepiness was already chased from her eyes. 

Draco watched her as he pushed himself into her, his length delving deeper into her than before. Leaning forward he seized her breasts, squeezing them in time with the next roll of hips. “You feel so good, Hermione,” he moaned against the back of her shoulder, kissing and nipping around her neck.

It felt like he was filling her more than he had in this position. Hermione gasped softly and her hips rolled back to meet him as her hands tightened on the headboard. “So do you,” she managed on a breath. Those kisses having her shiver as she tilted her head, letting her hair fall over one shoulder so he could have better access to her neck. 

Every thrust grew firmer and more confident, the power behind it slowly causing the bed to shift along with them. He was glad to have neither roommates nor neighbors as the wooden posters met the stone wall behind them. She felt so good, so so so so good. Her name fell from his lips, nearly a mess of syllables as he felt his own control slip to the pursuit of pleasure.

As his thrusts grew harder, her grip on the headboard tightened and her moans grew louder. Her body trembled under the assault and she moaned his name as he continued. She barely paid any attention to the sound of the posters hitting the stone, more focused on the sound of her name on his lips and the feeling of his body against hers. 

That warmth, her sounds, his head was spinning on its way to bliss. “I love you,” he groaned, his hips faltering in their motions as he tried to delay the inevitable.

Those words stole her breath as she looked back at him, her eyes wide in surprise. Had he just? “...Say that again..” she half demanded. 

Draco felt his cheeks heat at that, realizing what he’d just done. So often he’d merely thought the words in moments like these. It hadn’t exactly been how he would have said such a thing, even less like this… Swallowing down he slowed his motions just a bit to press his lips to her ear. The way his body draped over hers, only brown curls were visible against his shoulder.

The sounds that Lucius Malfoy could faintly hear from the stairs almost made him chuckle. Well, that would make some sort of sense. He hadn’t wanted to come home because he wanted more freedom to enjoy whatever witch he was with. Couldn’t be the Granger girl. 

He strode up the steps as the sounds seemed to die down some and opened the door. Though at the brown hair and how close the pair still were, he moved back and mostly closed the door. “Apologies. The Headmistress gave us leave to come and find you. We’ll be downstairs when you’re done,” he stated simply as he closed the door behind him and almost laughed. Well, clearly a boy after his own nature. 

Draco rested against Hermione’s back, out of breath and struggling to keep his wits about him. “I meant what I said,” he murmured. Oh he would be so dead once his parents realized what he’d been up to. At least his father had refrained from added awkwardness. 

Hermione stayed incredibly still. Lucius Malfoy. Was in their common room. It almost pulled all the warmth out of her. Though the feeling of Draco pressed so close to her kept some of that heat there, even as her heart hammered in her chest. Keeping his gaze, her voice felt caught in her throat. 

A moment or two ticked by before she kissed him, gently, her voice a whisper against his lips. “...I love you too, Draco.”

His skin tingled, it almost felt like a spell covering him with a warmth he had stopped seeking. “I suppose I’m not quite done with you yet,” he smirked, touching over her body. His father had said they’d wait after all. Seemed rude to stop on their account.

“I…” she blushed a bit further but didn’t make a move to release the headboard or to pull away from him as she bit down on her bottom lip and nodded her head. Being denied this moment with him after those words wasn’t something she was willing to have done. 

That nod spurred him on to resume his motions, lips at her ear as he groaned in pleasure. “So good,” he breathed.

A gasp left her at that, her eyes fluttering closed as she ground back against him. “Draco,” she moaned softly, not wanting to be _that_ loud with who was down those stairs. 

He didn’t care if his parents heard. They’d already walked in on them, it was their own problem for sticking around. His breath was ragged as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, kissing and nipping at her as he got back to his original harder thrusts.

A whimper left her as he picked up the pace again, her hands tightening again on the headboard. Her head stayed tilted for him, giving him better access to her neck as her breathing became more uneven again.

Draco reached to turn her face towards him, claiming her lips as he continued to take her at that punishing pace. Though he didn’t dare speak those words out loud again just yet, he hoped his lips conveyed it. 

The tender kiss was a nearly harsh juxtaposition to the brutal pace he took her in. The posters were hitting the wall again and she whimpered into his lips. Close. She was quickly climbing up to that precipice again. 

It was hard to hear the wood colliding with stone as he continued to build. His heart raced in his ears, pulsing as he drew closer to his own end. 

“Draco,” she moaned against his lips before nipping at his bottom lip, gripping the headboard with a white knuckled grip. It only took a few more thrusts before her inner walls tightened around him and she kissed him harder to hold back the sound of her release. 

A sound he mirrored as her climax brought about his. Still, he continued to ride out their pleasure, not wanting it to end just yet. When the bed finally stilled, he brought her down on the mattress with him, turning her so she faced him so he could claim those lips in a more intimate exchange.

Hermione didn’t resist those movements, easily releasing the headboard to wrap her arms around him as she kissed him. It was a more gentle meeting of lips, slow and intimate with all of the emotion of the words she had said to him. It would hurt so much more if he left her now. 

So long as he had her in his arms, he didn’t have to face his parents just yet. He combed through her hair as they continued to kiss, not sure he was ready to speak. 

Holding the kiss a bit longer, she slowly broke it and rested her forehead against his. Catching her breath, her fingers traced down his back gently. “...We can always go clean up...take a bit of time,” she offered quietly, knowing they’d have to face his parents sooner rather than later. 

“I’d like that,” he admitted, pushing her hair back. “I’d understand if you didn’t want to…” he began unsure how to say it. He wasn’t going to force her to face his parents with her.

That was something she could soothe, his uncertainty. Taking his hand, she held it against her cheek gently as she kept his gaze. “I wouldn’t be a very good Gryffindor if I couldn’t brave facing my partner’s parents, now would I?”

“You don’t have to be brave,” he brushed his thumb against the side of her cheek. “What my parents put you through...what my family…” he murmured. He needed her to know that he would understand. 

It was the mention of his family that reminded her of Bellatrix and she felt a small spike of concern, but she pushed it aside. “I know I don’t have to. But for you I will,” she whispered before turning her head to press a kiss to his hand. 

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers a moment. Merlin, he appreciated her in that moment. “Guess we should get dressed,” he smirked. “We can only hold Malfoy disappointment back for so long,” he shrugged.

“I’m going to go clean up just a bit and then get dressed…” she murmured and brushed her hair back from her face before stealing another kiss. 

He nodded. “Meet in my quarters when you’re done?” he offered before heading to his room to get dressed. He could clean up quickly on the way over.

Hermione nodded her head, moving to get up and grab her clothing. She’d take a very quick bath, use her hair potion to tame her bushy mane, and then join him in his room. Even though she didn’t _have_ to be brave, she planned on putting on nice clothes and actually putting in the effort a bit more. 

In his quarters, Draco put on a suit and robes that would have been appropriate in the manor. The dark fabrics perfectly complemented each other. Where he had let his lover take a bath, he had used the shower to wash off, opting for speed to give himself time to gather his thoughts.

Hermione finished up in the bath quicker than she would have liked, but it was to make sure she got completely clean. She ran the hair potion through her locks with her hands and quickly got dressed, in an actual dress. Rather than doing anything neutral, she decked herself out in Gryffindor red. 

The dress in question had a black belt that hugged around her waist, accenting her curves in a flattering way. The sleeves went down just far enough to cover her scar and the skirt went several inches past her knees. Leaving down a few strands of hair, she carefully coiled the rest of it back from her face for a neater look. 

Double checking herself in the mirror she took in a slow breath before slipping on a pair of short heels and striding into Draco’s room. 

Draco had been staring at the fire, collecting his thoughts and placing those shields in his mind that had saved him on more occasions than he cared to count throughout the war. Still, he felt her presence and only took a few seconds more before facing his partner. 

She looked every bit the lioness he knew her to be. “I do hope I live long enough to see that dress on my floor,” he nearly purred the words.

Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle at that, that faint blush in her cheeks again as she strode over to him. “Oh, I think that’s a very real possibility. You have a lioness on your side.”

As much as he was certain the thought would cross his father’s mind, the fact that he was the last heir to his name gave him some hope. Offering her his arm, he was ready to greet his parents below. He had to hope that, at the very least, being at the castle would protect him some. What was it Dumbledore had always said? That Hogwarts would always help those that needed it?

With every step down the stairs, he tried to keep his heart from hammering in his chest, to control every breath to maintain composure. It was something that was almost second nature. 

“Mother,” he greeted. “Father,” he nodded towards his father, halfway down the stairs, Hermione still concealed at his side. “I thought we had agreed I would be at the Manor in a few days…”

Narcissa stood from her seat, smoothing over her emerald dress and robes. The witch had always had a way to make her attire seem effortless, showing what she wished others to see and concealing everything else. This was no different, an homage to the family she had married into, a display of impeccable taste and authority weaved together in a way only Narcissa Malfoy could quite pull off.

“That was before it was clear you weren’t holding up your end of the bargain. Hopefully this means you’ve settled whatever differences you seem to have gotten in with Pans-” she began and cut off as she noted the brunette on his arm more clearly. 

If she’d held her husband in that moment she might have clawed him as she recognized the witch.

“I can see why she wouldn’t RSVP.” Her tone was dryer, though she seemed to attempt to remain neutral. After all, the times had changed, though only so much in her circles.

Lucius, on the other hand, had his shock clear on his face for a moment. Floored by what he was registering now a lot more clearly. Clearing his throat, he composed himself as he stood and moved to be at his wife’s side. “Ah. This does further explain why you didn’t come straight home,” he drawled, his voice colder as he looked right at the brunette. 

To her credit, Hermione kept her shoulders rolled back and her head held high as she stayed on Draco’s arm. She didn’t rise to dry tones, or the colder ones, from the Malfoys and offered a polite smile. “Good morning. I think Ms. Parkinson might actually have friends she’s meeting with over this holiday,” she said smoothly enough without telling anything more. 

Draco didn’t pull away. Instead he looked at his mother, avoiding his father’s gaze for just a moment. “Perhaps instead of assuming her cancellation is on me, you should pay her a visit,” he stated coolly. 

“Perhaps she felt your attention was elsewhere,” Narcissa responded with ease, though the expression she bore as she met her son’s gaze held both judgement and warning.

“Did the two of you have a disagreement about the...friendships you’ve been making this year?” Lucius attempted to deflect slightly as he looked to his son. Perhaps if he ignored Ms. Granger, she would simply not be a factor. 

“Pansy’s friendships blossomed before mine did,” he replied casually. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

The Head Girl glanced between both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy with a small hint of amusement. Apparently she was going to be ignored. Lovely. Rather than let Draco handle it alone, she glanced to Mrs. Malfoy with a polite smile and a detachment in her gaze that would have suited her better in Slytherin than in Gryffndor. 

“Her attention has also been elsewhere lately. N.E.W.T. level classes have been keeping everyone busy,” she replied. Keeping the attention off of their relationship, if only a little, was meant to derail the assumptions they were likely making. 

Mrs Malfoy, despite her better judgment, turned to face the girl. “I didn’t realize you had become so well acquainted.”

“Pansy and I? There are only so many students from our year that came back after what happened last year,” Hermione said simply. 

“Indeed,” the woman replied. “And yet I’m certain I’ve exchanged more words with her than you have, Miss Granger.”

Lucius tried not to sneer as he glanced over at his son with a slightly raised brow, a silent demand for explanation even as the two women continued to speak. 

“Well, Mrs. Malfoy, I don’t have a years long correspondence with Miss Parkinson. Though she has been making new friends this year. All of us have been,” she replied with a small smile, still staying as polite as she possibly could. 

“Mother,” Draco interjected. “I’m not certain that exposing your correspondence with a student is the high ground you think it is,” he pointed out before looking at his father. “Though I suppose now that Pansy has made it clear she has other plans, I can’t be without a plus one, and it just so happens that I was meaning to extend an invite to Hermione,” he said looking at the young witch at his side, needing the sight of her to gain that strength she gave him. 

Before either of his parents could interrupt him he continued. “I’m certain she would be happy to tell some of her friends she was attending,” he gave his lover a discreet wink. “You do still write to the Minister of Magic don’t you?” he smirked.

The in that her lover gave her with that actually made her grin just a bit more. “Kingsley? Of course I do. All the members of the Order stay in contact with each other. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear that bridges are being built across Wizarding society,” she agreed as she glanced back at the Malfoys. “Do you usually have the Minister for your parties?”

Lucius’s grip on his cane tightened slightly but he offered a slight smile. “We do. Quite a few Ministry officials have come to our events. But I’m sure Miss Granger would rather spend time with her own family if she’d be going to any home for the holidays, wouldn’t she?” He attempted to direct. He felt like his skin was crawling. 

Narcissa found herself on a very thin line. On the one hand, she understood her husband’s apprehensions, but the idea of a Minister for Magic joining them. Of course, she’d sent an invite, but the lack of response had stung. “I think what my husband is trying to say is, only if it isn’t an imposition,” she looked towards Lucius with a warning of her own that many might have seen as a bit of chemistry between such a longstanding couple.

“Of course. We wouldn’t want to impose on what plans Miss Granger might have,” he agreed easily but gave his wife a look as well. The way they made eye contact it was almost as if full length conversations were happening silently. 

Hermione subtly tightened her grip on Draco a bit. Her parents. Trying to cover up the pang of longing to be around her family again, she kept her expression almost neutral. “My parents are still gone at the moment...Due to the war I erased their memories to ensure their safety.”

Draco reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze he hoped was encouraging. “I believe what my plus one is saying, she would be glad to attend our holiday party,” he tried to conceal his mirth at it all. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked. Perhaps it was a bit more bold of him, but somehow he doubted they would do anything on campus.

The head of the Malfoy family had to conceal his own displeasure at it all. The idea of having someone like Granger coming to their holidays was enough to make him nearly grind his teeth. “Well….perhaps you’d be willing to come home for a few days leading up to the party then, Draco. We can make sure to get your...guest the day before the party. If the both of you are certain.”

If they got him away from the girl, perhaps they’d be able to talk some sense into their son.

Of course that was the tactic employed. Draco didn’t fall prey to it. “I already promised to stay with Hermione, after all, it seems only fair considering she can’t be with her family in part because of us...” He knew how to play his parents, the way they wouldn’t dare go against the grain in public. “So unless she feels compelled to join me ahead of time, I think I’ll be staying here. I would hate to get in mother’s way of her preparations.”

Again, Narcissa found herself toeing that divide. She brushed her husband’s arm. “Such a gentleman, our Draco is,” she aimed for the high road, always the silk glove over the iron fist. “I doubt Miss Granger would wish to spend the night at the manor, but she is most welcome if she so desires.” Surely the girl wasn’t so daft to want to spend the night in a home she had nearly died in. Gryffindor or not, she had to believe self-preservation would win out.

Lucius actually brought his wife in a bit closer to himself, using her to anchor himself as well. The patriarch of the Malfoy family could be rather prone to outbursts, and it seemed his wife was trying something else entirely. “Of course…but surely your chivalry wouldn’t wound your mother by denying her your presence on Christmas day, Draco. I’m sure even Miss Granger could understand that.”

They were good. Better than good. But she’d outsmarted a reporter of the Prophet on her own, in secret, and still had her in her pocket. Looking up at Draco, she seemed to consider it for a moment. “Your parents do make an excellent point, Draco,” she started, hoping that he’d see where she was going with this. Calling their bluff. In a way. 

Draco knew his parents, and though he might not have known Hermione as well as wished he did, he knew this was just another play. “Entirely up to you,” he squeezed her hand, brushing the back with his thumb. “The Manor has so much to offer,” he said, meeting her gaze.

Squeezing his hand lightly back, she kept his gaze with a small smile. “Well...I had a very limited view of it last time. If I’m going to be experiencing true Malfoy hospitality at the party, might as well adjust to it before then, shouldn’t I?” She agreed as she glanced at his parents. “If your invitation is genuine.”

Narcissa might have otherwise seemed offended. A hand raising to daintily press against her heart. “Any friend of Draco’s is welcome at the Manor,” she responded firmly. “If your circles aren’t as welcoming, then that’s a poor reflection on them,” she added stiffly, gripping her husband.

Draco knew his mother would be the first to cave, although she was perhaps the strongest pillar in the family, her care for appearances often trumped her senses.

“Not at all, Mrs. Malfoy. Though I’m glad to know you’re welcoming to _any_ friend of your son’s,” she said with a smile that could have caused a cavity. 

Lucius offered a tense smile as he glanced at his wife but then back at the young, he hesitated to call them a couple. “Well then, perhaps we should allow you both time to pack? The house elves will make sure your wing of the manor and the guest wing are properly prepared.”

At that, Draco didn’t lose the opportunity offered. “Do you want the guest wing, or would you be comfortable in my quarters?” he asked, looking her over. He wouldn’t make the decision for her.

Narcissa swallowed down. “If you wish,” she said gently. “Though if you are serious about your friend, then perhaps separate quarters are in order,” she nudged. If he refused her, he essentially admitted it wasn’t long term, but if he accepted, well, it still worked in her favor.

“Women do often like their space,” Lucius gently reminded his son, clearly trying to encourage the distance as if it would be better for Granger. 

Despite all of this, Hermione wasn’t about to let them put a wedge between them. Not after words they exchanged this morning. “I’d be more comfortable with you.” It would also be better if her nightmares hit that he was close by. She could only imagine how much worse they would get in that house. 

“My wing will do just fine,” he reiterated facing his parents. “I’ll send word before we arrive,” he said, closing the matter.

Tightening his hand on his cane, Lucius Malfoy gave a curt nod of his head as he looked at his son. “We’ll make sure everything is ready then, won’t we dear?” He murmured as neutrally as possible, but there was a stiffness to all of his movements. 

“Of course,” Narcissa assured her husband, giving him a look most would deem loving, doting even. “We would prefer you arriving for dinner,” she added. “We would appreciate time to...get to know Miss Granger better,” she offered an expression that held an amount of warmth only a mother could manage.

Draco wasn’t sure he liked the idea, but he also had come this far. “Hermione and I were considering eating out tonight,” he lied blatantly. “Perhaps after our trip to London…” he began.

Lucius frowned slightly but seemed to consider. “Perhaps we could meet you for dinner then. It would be best that we get to know Miss Granger better, after all.”

“A trip to London does seem delightful,” Narcissa looked between her son and her husband. “I’m certain I can have the reservation tweaked. Which restaurant did you say it was?” She asked.

Draco hadn’t expected that. “I... I can fix it…”

“Nonsense,” Narcissa responded. “It’s no trouble at all, you take the time you need to pack. I’ll figure it out.”

Oh dear. Hermione kept her expression calm. “Well, it was at a Muggle establishment. We’ll cancel that one and perhaps we can go to a separate place and let you handle those arrangements, Mrs. Malfoy?”

Compromise. Draco did not seem like he expected his parents to even want to do this and she was pretty sure Draco hadn’t made any reservations anywhere. Bluffs. All bluffs. But this would make it seem like she was mediating the situation, she hoped. 

“I would be delighted to,” Narcissa said with a coy smile that clearly said she knew of their original bluff. Of course, even in present company, she was far too proper to call it. “Unless you have any objections?” she asked her son.

Draco swallowed down. “I...no,” he finally managed. “Just let us know where to meet you,” he responded instead. There was no point to fight it, and perhaps meeting with his parents in public was the better option for this all. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about curses being flown over dinner.

Lucius gave a slight nod of his head and kept an arm around his wife. “Excellent, then it’s decided. We’ll send word with the new reservation and time so you both can be ready,” he said simply, giving his son a look. He expected them to be on time if they had to go through this whole ordeal with a muggleborn witch.


	53. Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronsy ahead!

Ron honestly hadn’t felt this nervous since his first Quidditch match. He didn’t spend a lot of time interacting with a lot of the pureblood witches and wizards of Wizarding society. If he was honest with himself, he was sort of out of his depth but he would find a way to manage. He was still a bit more formally dressed, having just gotten off from more Auror training, and was at the set meeting place that Pansy wanted him to go to. 

Though Pansy seldom displayed her anxiety in any other form than spite and anger, she had changed multiple times and struggled to get her appearance just right. In the end, she had found a happy medium in a patterned black and white pencil skirt over opaque stockings, a buttery soft black blouse that hugged her without being indecent. A few accessories and brushed out curls had lent a vintage look to her attire. Wrapped in her emerald coat, she had made her way to the meeting point, hopeful not to regret her decision. When she finally found Ron, she was glad the cold air and a slight uphill walk in heeled ankle boots could account for the flush in her cheeks. 

“Hi,” she greeted, not quite trusting herself to speak. Though not late, she would apologize for making him wait. 

Turning to look at her, he smiled a bit and carded a hand through his hair a little awkwardly. “Hey,” he greeted with a slightly more boyish smile. 

What he wouldn’t admit to her out loud was that he had actually started to wonder if she actually would show up. Most of Pureblood society saw his family as blood traitors, and he was sure the sentiment still stood, because of how they accepted everyone. Hopefully his own family would continue the accepting everyone thing if this date went well and they actually started seeing each other. 

Pansy fidgeted for half a second before composing herself with a bit of a sigh. “So,” she sounded, not really used to having to take the lead. Not like this anyways. “You did plan something, right?” she asked.

“Well...I had a plan, Harry sort of helped me with converting Galleons to Muggle money....but the restaurant said that they didn’t have any other reservations. So I’ve been trying to figure out a back up,” he admitted as he ruffled the back of his hair with a sheepish smile. 

She slipped her arm in his and nodded. “I see,” she smirked. “I might know a place, but it won’t open for another hour or so,” she nudged him forward. “We can find something to do along the way.” There were a few parks they could stop at, and London this time of year was teeming with life.

He nodded his head, carefully keeping her arm in his as he started to walk down the street with her. “I’m sure we’ll find something...as long as you won’t get cold or anything,” he muttered a little awkwardly. This was different, but he was enjoying this so far. They weren’t snapping at each other, which was a great start if you asked him. 

“I should be good, most of my winter wardrobe has some heat charms woven into them,” she assured him. There were certain advantages to having tailored outfits. Each piece personalized with her in mind.

Ron nodded his head and lightly squeezed her arm. “Good.” 

That wasn’t something he was entirely used to. His mother did try to weave some charms like that into the jumpers and the scarves, but he was still having to be careful with the training pay he was getting as an auror. Later in his career he’d be able to afford more of the charmed clothing. 

“Have you been having a good break so far?” He asked, trying for casual conversation. 

“Can’t complain. Had a spa day, some shopping,” she recounted. “The usual. You?” she returned the question.

He chuckled slightly. “Not too much of a break yet. Lots of work training. But all of my siblings have started to come back to the Burrow. Mum insisted.” 

“Luckily for me you’re not all work and no play,” she drawled. She wasn’t sure what exactly she felt at the knowledge that he had people at home. Honestly, she wasn’t really sure how that felt. If she was lucky, her parents would go straight to Malfoy Manor from their cabin, leaving her to sulk on her own.

“Nah. Likely will have another family Quidditch match on Christmas day….bit of a family tradition. Doing anything for your Christmas?” He hoped that she had something to look forward to. Though after that conversation about her family, he wasn’t hopeful. 

“Likely a post-Christmas guilt trip for missing the yearly Malfoy party,” she said honestly.

Ron wrinkled his nose as he led them into a park, keeping her arm in his as he shook his head. “...If you want a bit of an escape...I can see about getting you an invitation to the Burrow. Mum had expected one more person anyway…”

“You want to introduce me to your mother?” She asked. Of course she knew what it would appear to anyone in her social circles. Knew what his mother would likely see, if she hadn’t forgotten.

“Well...yeah? Family is pretty important to me. But I get if you don’t want to, so no pressure or anything. Thought that it might be a nice escape for you...and it’d be nice,” he finished a little lamely. 

It still felt odd, almost like some trap. “I’m just... surprised?” She wasn’t really sure how to explain it. “Not the family thing just…” she struggled as she tried to be clearer in her statement only to finally sigh in capitulation. “It’d be nice?” she asked instead, hoping he’d unpack it some more.

“So...you’re saying it’s surprising that I can offer nice things?” He asked with a bit of amusement as he looked down at her with a small smile. He was mostly teasing, but he wasn’t sure why it was so surprising. 

“I’m surprised you _want_ to introduce me to your family when just last week you were reminding me of how I suggested to offer your friend to the Dark Lord.” she clarified. “I think we’ve both learned how...nice we can be when we want to be,” she smirked.

“You also were about to hex me within an inch of my life a few weeks ago so, we’re even on that,” he offered with a bit of a smile even as he flushed. True, he had said all of that, hadn’t he?

Pansy couldn’t help but feel he did have a point there. That red in his cheeks definitely helped put her at ease. If only to remind her, he wasn’t exactly her usual type per say. “I mean you did deserve it,” she recalled. “I’m glad I didn’t,” she found herself saying despite her better judgment.

Ron let out a slow sigh. “I know I deserved it but we were both out of sorts...not an excuse, but we both didn’t exactly communicate,” he muttered, almost rambling, though he smiled a little bit more. “Glad you don’t regret that you didn’t hex me…”

“Communication is important,” she said agreeably. “I rather like to know where I stand,” she added. “You might not always like what I say, but it’ll be honest.” That much she could promise.

“Well...honesty is preferred to lies so I’ll take that. Maybe try to be less blunt with the honesty though,” he offered as they walked through the park, though all of his attention was on her. 

Pansy gave him a glance before eying a pond in the distance. “Honesty is blunt,” she reminded with a bit of a shrug. “I suppose I can attempt a semblance of a filter,” she conceded. Of course, she wasn’t making any promises, filtering herself was hard at the best of times.

“Honesty can be blunt, but there’s a way that it’s said that could be more harsh than helpful,” he countered with a bit of a smile. 

“You sound like my mother,” she teased lightly. The woman had said it was lucky she was matched or no man would ever want anyone with such a vicious streak.

Ron looked over at her and lifted a brow. “...I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing so I’ll just take it as a compliment.”

Pansy looked at him. “Considering I know you’re not telling me to curb my tongue for my matrimonial appeal, it really can go either way,” she smirked.

“Nah. Besides...if you’re that sharp with people neither of us like, you will not catch me complaining,” he chuckled. It was part of what he had liked about Hermione’s wit, still did, just not in the same way. 

“I’m sure we can agree on _some_ people. Though, I suppose that puts your siblings off that list.” There was a clear hint of amusement on her features as she paused atop a small bridge to look at the small pond it sat over. A bit of a snow dusted the banks, ice trying to cling to the surface. Not quite as magical as the castle, but beautiful in its own right.

“It depends on what the sibling did, honestly, we can be rather horrid to each other depending on what the other did,” he chuckled a bit as he stopped with her. Looking over the ice on the pond, he smiled a little bit. This was...oddly nice. 

Pansy wasn’t sure how all those relationships worked, but then she knew how vicious families could be. “I see,” she said thoughtfully. “I suppose it will remain to be seen.” 

Ron nodded his head before he chuckled. “Feel free to be merciless with Percy,” he offered with a bit of a smirk.

From what she had understood from her father, Percy had been an upstanding citizen during the war. At least as far as the ministry was concerned. “Of course the one Wealey my parents seem to not hate,” she offered with a chuckle. “I’ll try my best, or perhaps my worst?” This entire date would be an affront to her parents, if they could be bothered to care long enough.

He actually laughed at that but shrugged his shoulders. “He abandoned the family for ambition, thought Harry was mental right up til the war started...but whichever it is, I trust you to do what you do best,” he smiled. 

That explained why her father had been impressed with him, and therefore her mother. “Sounds like he was surviving,” she shrugged. Perhaps not all the Weasleys were as burgundy and gold as they appeared to be. “I do have a reputation,” she grinned, pulling up from where she eyed the frigid waters.

“During the war? Yeah. Before that? Before that he was just trying to distance himself and social climb. He doubted Harry and our father and...everything. He’s trying to do better now...Mum’s just happy he’s back,” he explained with a slight shrug. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Percy. 

Looking down at her though, he actually smiled a bit. “Yeah, I’m kind of aware of your reputation, Parkinson.” 

Snaking her arm back in his, she nudged him onto the path again. “Social climbing I can work with,” she thought out loud. “We should probably start heading towards that restaurant, if only to get a reservation. We’ll likely have to come back later,” she warned. “I’m sure we can find a way to pass the time.” 

Ron sighed softly but nodded his head, pulling her in and actually pressing a kiss to her temple. “Alright. And I’m sure we can. You seem to have a lot of ideas,” he smiled. Smart women. Clearly he had a type. 

“I wouldn’t be very good at scheming if I didn’t,” she said with a hint of pride as they left the park and made their way down a less busy street. They were getting closer to her family’s London flat. He had tried obviously, it was all she could really ask for. At least for now.

“True...but I think it’s more that you’re creative and smart, so it builds in different ways,” he explained as they moved down the street back to where they had met up in the first place. It was close to where the restaurant was...and his best way to navigate.

Pansy was a young witch on a mission. As such, there was a pep to her step as she made her way forward through the bustle of downtown. Once at the building entrance she made her way to the rooftop entrance with Ron in tow. 

“Ma’am we are b-“ the Maitre D’ began and paused. “Ah Miss Parkinson,” he greeted her instead with a bit of a nod. “I don’t have your family down for tonight…”

The brunette offered a curt closed smile. “I was hoping perhaps you could work your magic and get me in for two tonight?”

“It’s a busy night, but I’ll see what I can do,” he nodded, looking over the book before him.

Ron glanced at Pansy with a slight lift of his brow. He honestly had no clue that her family frequented Muggle establishments. It was a bit of a shock if he was honest. 

After a bit of back and forth, they were given a time to return. A little later than most dinners, but Pansy was used to late dinners. 

“My family has a flat a few blocks down,” she told Ron. “My mother is in the country and my father is out of town until tomorrow.” At least he wouldn’t have the misfortune of meeting them. 

“You’re inviting me back to your flat?” He couldn’t help but ask. That was as startling to him as him saying he wanted her to meet his family was to her. 

Pansy eyed him. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all…” he quickly stated and then offered her his arm again. “Lead the way?”

An arm she graciously took as she did just that. Between the restaurant and the door to the flat, she walked with quick steps, her heart racing beneath her breast. If her parents knew they’d likely have a fit, but it was a calculated risk. One she was willing to take. 

Once past the doorman, she reached the lift and pressed the top floor button. “If things go well at dinner, I might consider bringing you back for the night,” she teased. 

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior,” he answered with a grin, pulling her in and looking her over, half tempted to kiss her. 

Pansy let her gaze linger on his lips before meeting his gaze. “Good,” she purred, pulling him once the doors opened into the foyer. It was another set of doors to actually enter the flat. It was elegant and a bit more modern than the likes of some of the older families. Thankfully no moving portraits to tell on her in regards to her wrongdoings.

“Flora will take your coat,” she motioned to the elf scampering off with her own jacket before returning.

The elegance to this actually had him feel a little more than out of his depth as he walked in with her, slowly taking off his coat. “Uh...thanks,” he muttered to the elf and glanced back to Pansy. 

“Would you rather a drink in the living room or my room?” she gave him the choice. 

“Either’s fine…” He wasn’t sure what to do with that option, other than utilize the hell out of it so he could be closer to her. But then they could end up losing the reservation. 

Pansy offered him a coy look as she led him to the settee before the fireplace. “This is probably best. If only to make sure we don’t get too carried away…”

Ron chuckled a little nervously. “Probably for the best,” he agreed with a small smile at that as he took a seat there. 

Still she inched closer, settling a feather light hand on his thigh. “Hopefully we’ll be able to make up for it later.”

Her touch was welcome, having him relax even as he wanted to pull her closer. “Well, you did say if this went well we could come back here…”

“I rather hope it does,” she teased a bit closer before pulling away.

Ron blushed a bit but smiled. “I hope it does too…” Yeah. He had a type. 

That blush, the way he spoke, it was different than what she knew. No male bravado, no need to be alpha, to put her in her place, and yet she knew he could. If he really wanted to. 

Before she could overthink or speak, her house elf appeared with a bow.

“I’ll have my usual,” she told Flora without looking away. “Drink preference?” She asked her guest.

That actually made him blink slightly. “What’s your usual? So that way I’m not...too out of place,” he chuckled, covering his nervousness. 

“Pomegranate Martini,” she replied with a soft expression. “Has a bit of a citrus twist,” she explained.

“A fire whiskey would be just fine then,” he said with a bit of a smile. “Though that sounds...interesting.”

A small pop told the pair that the elf had gone to fix the drinks, giving Pansy the time to inch closer, her gaze falling on his lips for a moment as if toying with the idea of leaning forward.

Ron couldn’t help but smile a bit more as she looked at him like that, having him bridge the distance this time to press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. 

With a smile, she slowly met his lips, tenderly brushing his cheek with her finger tips.

He let that kiss stay gentle, kissing her slowly as his fingers moved to brush through her hair. 

The exchange felt indulgent, and she couldn’t help but push it a bit further. She was getting closer to him, deepening the kiss more.

How could he deny her? He deepened the kiss with her and pulled her in a bit closer as his fingers trailed down her back. 

It was easy to inch forward, nearly settling in his lap if she moved any closer. If she’d been told by a seer she’d be kissing Ronald Bilius Weasley in her family home at the start of the school year, she would have laughed, but doing so, she couldn’t stop. Even Flora’s return didn’t have her pull away.

Ron didn’t even notice the house elf at the moment, not with the young woman that was leaning into him for more of those kisses. He deepened it a touch further, though he knew that if he continued at this rate he was going to want to just skip dinner. He couldn’t go and do that now though…

After a few more moments, Pansy pulled away flushed and breathless. Biting her lower lip she watched him a moment longer before moving to reach her glass. With it against her lips she couldn’t be tempted again. 

“We should probably continue that exchange later…” she crooned after a sip. 

“Probably." He looked at her, trying not to lean in again as he picked up his glass. He took a slow sip from his firewhiskey, needing that light burn. 

Legs crossed at her ankles she kept close to his side. “How’s your training going,” she asked, ignoring that heat of desire coursing through her.

Ron let out a sigh. “Slow and steady. But we seem to be doing well. They’re more impressed than they aren’t.”

“Good,” she nodded. She knew more people at the ministry than she cared to admit. Perhaps she’d put feelers out, see what she could do to help. Of course she wouldn’t dare offer it, not so soon. “And you like it?” She asked. 

A small smile curved his lips as he nodded his head. “I do...I like helping people. I’ve been helping people for over a year now as it is. It’s almost a habit now,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“There are many ways to help people,” she said with a bit of laughter. “I suppose danger and near death is more the Gryffindor speed of things…”

“Gryffindor is known for bravery, chivalry, being bold...charging into things,” he half joked but yeah. He charged into a lot. 

The last bit made her wonder if that’s what he was doing, charging into things with her. Given her own time constraints, she didn’t mind it, but would he regret it? She wasn’t sure. “Hopefully you’ve gotten the chivalry down with my help,” she teased lightly. 

Ron was surprisingly easy to talk to. Before long it was time for them to head out to the restaurant. There were advantages to knowing a few Maitre D’ in the city.

“You’ve helped with the chivalry, that’s for sure. So I can thank you for that,” he chuckled. It was easier than he would have expected to talk with Parkinson. Who knew that all they had to do was put the hatred and bickering of Houses on the back burner?

“Might make a proper wizard of you yet,” she added laughingly. 

At that he rolled his eyes even as he smiled. “A proper wizard, huh?”

“Mhmmm,” she smiled and licked her lower lip as she gave him a smoldering look.

That look had heat roll through him and he had to shift slightly to keep his pants from feeling too tight. “I’ll take your word for it.”

His shift was a movement Pansy was quite versed in. Part of her wanted to push it further, to see just how much want she could create without crossing the line. As she thought it over, she sipped her drink. “Perhaps my methods have offered an opportunity to find better,” she smirked. Pansy Parkinson was many things, a downgrade from Hermione Granger she was not.

“Better?” Ron didn’t follow. Better standards for himself? Better connections? Honestly, he hoped she wasn’t insulting Hermione. That was still his friend...even if he had to question her decisions at the moment. 

Pansy perked a brow. “A better match…” she responded tactfully. “Unless you disagree?”

“Oh!” He flushed a bit at that and ran his fingers through his hair. “...Potentially. I mean, you’re smart and pretty and determined and ambitious….And we already can stand each other when we bicker.”

That flush and subsequent musings had her settle. At least he didn’t appear to be settling for second best, which she would have nipped in the bud. “Mhmm,” she sounded, letting him continue his statement.

“So...probably?” He offered with a sheepish smile. He hoped so. Honestly, he wanted to be well matched with someone. Clearly Hermione hadn’t been it. 

“To which?” She asked, wanting to hear it from him. 

“Probably a better match?” He tried to state, but it sounded more like a question, like he might get something wrong. 

Head tilted to the side she eyed him. “You tell me.”

“I mean, I like you. I’m not trying to plan too far ahead here…just in case,” he admitted honestly.

Pansy smirked. “Just far enough to introduce me to your family,” she reminded him. “So I would hope you at the very least fancied me.” A bit of a chuckle escaped her at that.

“Well….yeah. If I didn’t fancy you, I wouldn’t do this,” he breathed before leaning in to press another kiss to her lips. 

That had her heart racing, cheeks flushed with blush. Happily she kissed him back, holding his cheeks as she drew closer. 

Ron brushed his free hand through her hair, letting it trace down her back. He held the kiss for a few moments longer before he broke it and looked at her with a smile. 

“Mmm,” she sounded, slicking her lips as she eyed him with a hungry gaze. 

That look had heat roll through him a bit further and he couldn’t help but smirk just a bit. “...Keep looking at me like that and we’ll miss the reservation you worked for…”

“That would be a pity,” she responded, though her tone didn’t quite convey such a sentiment. “It’s easy to get carried away with you,” she admitted.

Oh, that was a confidence boost for the Gryffindor. It made him chuckle slightly. “...The feeling is mutual.”

Despite her better judgment she set her glass down and shifted to settle in Ron’s lap, arms loosely wrapped around shoulders. “We might need to take some of the edge off,” she breathed, feeling that blush persist in her cheeks as she eyed him.

Oh dear Merlin. He almost groaned as he took a sip of his firewhiskey before he put the glass down next to them and wrapped his arms around her. “You think that it’ll just take the edge off if it’s so easy to get carried away?” 

“If we determine rules of engagement, maybe,” She smiled somewhat innocently, hands roaming his front. “Takes less than ten to get there,” she calculated out loud. “We have…” she eyed the clock, calculating their time left in her mind. “About half an hour…”

“Mmm, alright. And what rules of engagement should we follow?” He murmured, his hand on her back pulling her in a bit closer. He was in deep trouble. 

Pansy brushed her nose against his, squirming in his lap as she tried to keep herself in line. “No taking off clothes,” she started. If they did that, they’d never leave, or worse, arrive disheveled.

Ron nodded his head at that. “I figured that much…any other rules?” He breathed as his fingers brushed down her back and he pressed a kiss to her jaw. 

“Don’t mess up my hair,” she responded in a breath, granting him better access to her jaw and neck. The way her back arched in his grasp making her grind against him slightly. 

“I promise,” he laughed with a grin as he trailed those kisses along her jaw gently, though that grind pulled a groan from his lips. 

Just feeling him through their clothes was enough to make her moan against his lips with desire. “You have any rules?” She managed between kisses.

Those moans had him shiver and he wanted to grind against her, but he simply held her, his hands traveling up and down her back. “No marks.”

“I think I can manage,” she breathed, rolling her hips to feel him again. Needing that proximity, that reassurance that he too was just as aroused as she was in that moment.

Another groan left him at that roll and his grip tightened on her before he kissed her again. 

Eagerly she met his lips, pursuing that motion. Those sounds far too pleasant for her to do anything to make them stop. Beneath her breast, her heart raced at the thought of what they could be up to.

He kissed her deeply, parting her lips to delve into her mouth and coax her into a deeper kiss. All he wanted was to be closer to her, but he was being careful not to break either of the rules that they had set up. 

As she met those kisses, she let her hands roam over his chest and shoulders, smoothing the back of his neck and finding those soft ginger locks. He felt good, muscular. His time at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was definitely paying off.

Ron relaxed further into those touches, barely holding back a groan. It was nice having her just touch him, playing with his hair and against his shoulders. His hands lightly traced over her curves, exploring her clothed form as he deepened the kiss a bit further. 

His tongue was like velvet, and she couldn’t get enough of him. Pansy kept as close as she could, touching as much of him as she could while she could. Soon they’d have to leave, but for now...she risked touching him over his pants, a moan muffling into their exchange.

His hips arched into her hand, a groan muffled by their kiss leaving him as his grip tightened on her. Maybe one of his rules should have been her keeping her hands above the waist. Now all he wanted was to get closer to her rather than go and get dinner. 

Pansy grinned into their kiss, giving him a squeeze through his trousers. Panting she pulled back to look at him. “I can’t wait to bring you back here,” she purred, licking his lower lip.

Ron moaned into the kiss and arched into her hand, squirming against her. Nipping at her bottom lip, he took in a slow breath. “...The feeling is mutual.”

“Good,” she breathed, meeting his gaze, giving his length a final brush. “I’ll take good care of you,” she promised.

Holding back a groan, he pressed a kiss to her jaw and then down the side of her neck. “I believe you…”

At that she smiled. “I should go freshen up,” she sighed. Perhaps a cooling charm would help.

“Alright...some space might be a good idea,” he conceded as he took in a slow breath and slowly let her go. 

Space was the last thing she wanted, but it made the heart grow fonder right? Taking a few minutes she fixed a few stray curls and reapplied her lipstick. 

Shifting to grab his glass of firewhiskey, he took a long drink from the glass and took in a slow breath. 

Glancing over her reflection one last time, Pansy smoothed over her skirt. She still felt a flutter in her chest, and a smile on her lips as she made her way back to him. 

“You ready?”

Downing the rest of the fire whiskey, he nodded his head as he moved to stand and brushed out his pants carefully, readjusting himself discreetly. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

After having her elf fetch their coats, she took his arm and led him back to the lift to make their way to the restaurant.


	54. Before the Viper's Nest

With their trunks sent off to Malfoy Manor, Draco and Hermione had avoided meeting Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy in their home by sending word that they’d meet them at the restaurant. This offered them some time before dinner. They made their way to the Leaky Cauldron through the Floo Network, appearing in flames of emerald erupting from the large hearth. From there they meandered out into the cobblestoned roads of Diagon Alley for a spell. Rather than linger, they wandered the streets of London in wait. Beneath his cool exterior, that swagger from his youth in his step, Draco was quite nervous for the dinner. As much as he reveled in having the lioness on his arm, even standing up to the Dark Lord hadn’t been so bold as a stand against his parents. Still, he wouldn't back down from this.

Hermione was incredibly nervous, she felt like her heart was hammering in her chest. Especially after that declaration this morning and now this. She felt like this was far too much, but she did enjoy being on his arm in public. They weren’t hiding and they weren’t shrinking away from being seen. Keeping pressed into his side, she took in a slow breath. “Anything I should know before we meet your parents for dinner?”

“You’ve met my parents already,” he tried not to shudder at the memory of them all in the same room. “Though they may try to be pleasant if only to get your guard down."

In a vipers nest, one had to be a viper. An image he had trouble assigning to Hermione. She was many things, but deceitful was something he couldn’t see her being. Not truly, not the way the men and women in his part of the Wizarding World.

“I had a feeling they might be. I don’t really expect them to approve of me,” she stated honestly with a slight shrug of her shoulders. It stung. Just a little. 

Draco wasn’t completely oblivious. It wasn’t like he expected her family to accept him with open arms either. “I don’t exactly expect yours to approve of me either…”

Her parents might need a bit of time to approve of Draco, but she knew deep down that they would. Looking over at him she offered a slight smile. “You’d be surprised...it wouldn’t be immediate, they’ve heard me talk about you before, but they would. Mum probably faster than Dad.”

“I can only imagine what you told them,” he felt the slightest lick of heat in his cheeks. 

“I’m sure my mother might mention it,” she murmured under her breath. Blush filled her cheeks. First year Hermione might have gushed a bit too much about the smart blond in her classes.

He braced himself for the worst. The time he’d insulted her teeth, or called her a mudblood earning him his first and only strike to the face. In between those particularly bad incidents had been others he dared not think of.

“There’s a little coffee shop near the restaurant. We could get a cuppa before we meet my parents,” he offered to somewhat change the subject. 

“I might need it for my nerves.” A lioness in a den of serpents was not what she would have expected her holiday to hold. But she’d brace it for him. And maybe she could offer him some reassurance that there were _good_ things she had said as well. 

Draco half wanted to offer to spike their drinks, if he hadn't wanted his wits about him at dinner. “Good,” he smiled, leading her to a Costa Coffee a few blocks from their rendez-vous.

Hermione’s thumb rubbed against the back of Draco’s hand as she walked with him. Now the question was coffee or tea. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel any dread whatsoever about being around Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy...but she'd said she’d be brave.

“At least you get to sleep with me tonight." As he heard the words, he realized how bad they sounded. “I mean…” he tried to make it sound less...horribly wrong. “I have a wing, so no hovering parents,” he corrected and felt that just sounded pretentious. “I’m trying to find a silver lining,” he sighed, parting from her hand only to open the door for her. 

She couldn’t help the laugh at that as she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “...I know what you meant. If I didn’t get to stay next to you I’m not sure I could stay at the Manor...not after…” she trailed off, not wanting to say it. Though she did manage to not rub at her arm as she walked into the coffee shop. 

“I wouldn’t have allowed you to be alone,” he promised her. Even if his parents had insisted, he would have snuck into those quarters. Settling an arm around her waist, he guided her towards the counter. It was always a bit odd to be in a muggle establishment after spending so much time in the wizarding world. He eyed the menu, considering his options and ultimately settling on a London Fog. 

That was the very same drink that Hermione had been about to order. She actually smiled a bit more as she ordered the same thing, though with a dash of cinnamon on top for hers. Before Draco could pay, she pulled out her wallet from her jacket and paid with Muggle money rather swiftly. 

Draco wasn’t quite certain how to take the gesture. Instead, he moved across the counter with her to fetch their drinks. “Whatever you do, don’t try to pick up the tab tonight,” he warned gently.

“Why would that be a bad thing?” She couldn’t help but question with a raised brow as she looked at him. 

“For a number of reasons,” he began to explain. “Just don’t, it won’t end well,” he said, taking their cups. “Let’s find a table.”

She gave him a look but nodded her head, looking around for an empty table. “Can I get more of an explanation than that? And there’s a table over there.”

As they walked over, he tried to think of how to properly word things. One of those pauses he naturally took, though this time not to redirect venom so much as to be clear without stoking that fire he knew burned beneath her chocolate gaze. 

“They’ll see it as an insult, or worse, pretend it’s fine and order some ridiculously expensive items just to watch you squirm,” he said. 

“Ah,” she said as she walked over to the table with him and took a seat, letting him carry their drinks. “Alright.”

He set a drink in front of her and took a seat with his own. “I want to just avoid unnecessary confrontation.” 

It seemed the safest way to handle things. A bit of a plea lingered in his silver gaze.

Looking up at him, she crossed one finger over her heart. “I promise to avoid this particular confrontation. I’d rather not insult them anymore than my presence already does right off the bat.”

“There'll be plenty of other ways to cause offense where retribution isn’t as easily dished,” he promised.

“I’ll likely cause offense just being in the house,” she said with a sigh as she picked up her cup and took a sip. The warmth had her wrap her other hand around it as well as she tried to get herself to relax. 

Draco sipped his tea. Just having her in his bed would have both his parents beyond aggravated. 

“Sounds like someone else’s problem,” he said with a small smirk.

Raising a brow with a slight smile she couldn’t help the chuckle that left her. “So it doesn’t bother you that if they had their way I wouldn’t be anywhere near you?”

“Only if they succeed,” he looked at her. He couldn’t make them feel differently, but he could grate their resolve.

“They can’t chase me away,” she reassured. Though she had a feeling that they’d certainly try. 

Reaching over to take her hand he gave it a squeeze. It relieved him to hear her say that. After another sip of tea he sighed. “Good,” he offered a smile.

Squeezing his hand back gently, she smiled back at him. “...Took too much for us both to get here to just give it up because your parents aren’t happy about it.”

Those words made him want to kiss her. They had come such a long way to turn back now. She was definitely right about that. “We’ll definitely need a day to get you a gown for the holidays,” he decided to think ahead. Definitely a statement to be made there that would make Slughorn's festivities seem like dry rehearsals.

That actually made her pause as she sipped from her London Fog and kept her hand in his. “That formal of an event?” That had her nerves spike a bit but she could handle it. He’d help her and it wasn’t like she hadn’t been to formal affairs before. 

Draco nodded, that haughtiness to him that said she shouldn't expect any less from his family. It was his mother’s night to shine. At least it had been until recently. Of course with Hermione’s help, it might just be once more.

“Okay...so new dress. Matching again?” She hoped so. That would make this a bit easier. 

“Wouldn’t want to confuse anyone,” he tried not to grin. “That you’re on my arm,” he added, obviously enjoying that tidbit.

A bit more of a smile curved her lips. “I’m sure no one will be confused about that.”

“Not if I have a say in the matter."

“How does it feel getting your wish to show me off?”

In all honesty, Draco felt a great many things. None which he could probably place into any verbal manner. “I doubt anyone could actually show you off. You’re very much capable without being on my arm. Being given a chance to flaunt you on my arm… that’s something I’m not quite sure I can measure.”

He stroked that ego with a truth he had known from the moment he had witnessed her descend that grand staircase at the Yule Ball. So many nights he had dreamed it was him she was marching towards with that chin held high. That night, he had known she'd been scathing every wizard that hadn't deigned to ask her. And though he had let no one see it, or know it, he had dreamed she had done so for him.

Hermione’s expression got gentler at those explanations and she lightly squeezed is hand again. It was nice. She loved it. “Thank you.”

It was easy to be smooth with Hermione. Where he might have had to embellish in other courtships if it were in his character to do so, with Hermione, it came easily, sometimes he even surprised himself. Perhaps he had grown in those past few years. 

Draco took a drink of his tea. “I should be thanking you, for giving me a chance.”

A light blush warmed her cheeks at that as she shook her head. “...Spending time with you made it easier than you likely realize.”

Seeing a change in him, a willingness to be open and actually be a person rather than the cog in the machine of wizarding society...it reignited feelings she thought had been long gone.

Being alone with her made it easier. The manor, his parents, his peers, unlearning certain behaviors would come harder. Not feeling a need to conceal and not feel among the hardest to relieve himself of.

For a moment he just basked at the sight of her. Perhaps not the portrait of pureblood perfection his family sought, but she was to him. Perfect. 

Hermione took another sip of her drink, glancing out the window before she looked back at him. The way he looked at her made her blush a bit more. It was like he saw something that no one else had seen before. 

“What?” She couldn’t help but ask. 

A small snicker of a laugh escaped him. “Just enjoying the sight.”

That made her blush deepen to a light red as she smiled at him. “...Hush,” she half laughed, but looked more than pleased. 

Draco merely smiled. The only sight better, would be her stripped bare on his bed, though he wasn’t about to say that in public. Even if it was just a muggle establishment.

Hermione watched him a bit longer, enjoying that smile, before she looked out the window and watched the people hurry through the streets as she sipped her London Fog. 

“Not much longer now,” he sighed looking at the outdoor hustle and bustle. At least they wouldn’t be late.

“We’ll be fine,” she assured him as she lightly squeezed his hand as she continued to look out the window. Even though her heart was beating faster. 

Of course they’d be unscathed physically. His parents weren’t fools. They wouldn’t risk anything so close to the ministry, let alone in public. No, they would rattle them, perhaps attempt to divide and conquer, but no threats they wouldn’t be willing to make good on.

Draco squeezed her hand, silently tapping the side of his empty cup. It was a while before he rose and offered her his arm. Getting there before his parents seemed a good way to help catch them further off guard. Any small advantage would be taken. 

Finishing her drink, she took his arm and stood up. She grabbed both of their empty cups and disposed of them in the bin on their way out, staying bundled up and against his side.


	55. Best Behaviour

Across the street, they stepped through tall glass doors into a large marble foyer, perfectly decorated for the holidays. Carefully crafted wreaths and garlands. Beyond it, golden doors opened to display elegant lifts that would take the pair up to the very top floor. A small room for the maitre D’ to sign in guests and lead them to their glass igloos dispersed across the rooftop and granting birds eye views of London in all its glory.

Hermione was more than impressed and while she would have preferred it if she was just with Draco, she was going to make sure that his parents wouldn’t ruin it for them. The nerves had her heart hammering in her chest as she stayed on his arm. “This place is gorgeous…”

“I’m glad you think so,” Mrs Malfoy’s pinched response came. 

Draco straightened despite himself. Turning without parting from Hermione he offered a polite smile. “Mother,” he greeted. “It’s so nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Draco,” Lucius drawled as he looked at his son before daring a glance over at the...girl.

Turning with him, she offered a polite smile. “Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for choosing such a lovely place for dinner.”

Narcissa merely gave a nod while discretely nudging her husband. They had discussed behaving, at least for the first night.

“I think we can both agree, seeing mother in high spirits isn’t something to overlook,” he told his father. “It is nice to see you too,” he added, sharing a complicit smile with his mother before adding a “shall we?” to follow the maitre D’ forward.

Lucius glanced over at his wife, keeping her on his arm and gave a nod of his head as he glanced to Draco and his date. “After you,” he drawled, letting Draco and the girl take point. There were key things he noticed as he studied his son...and he wasn’t sure how he felt about any of them. 

The brunette kept that polite expression on her face and attempted to keep her composure. Her heart kept hammering and it was hard to keep herself from showing that nervousness. 

With every step, Draco felt his heart hammer in his chest. It was nothing compared to the feel of his parents behind him. Their gazes searing the back of his head. Still, he kept his walls up, and with it a cool composure that contrasted to how his blood sped through his limbs. He felt calm and unraveled. 

Keeping her own polite mask, she knew that she was going to have to play a game of intrigue and politeness. This wasn’t as open as the war had been, it had to be carefully executed in such a way that she wouldn’t make this harder than she knew it had to be on Draco. 

Narcissa let her fingers brush her husband’s inner elbow as they followed the children, not daring to speak until they were presented their glass igloo. Once coats were shrugged, menus were presented, and the maitre D’ had left with drink orders for their server to bring forth, she finally broke the simmering silence.

“Hopefully the journey went well.”

“Did packing go well?” Lucius asked politely as well as he glanced at his menu so he wouldn’t keep staring at the pair of them. 

If Draco were the average young lad, he might have made some snide remark, but he knew better. “Well,” he assured, glancing over the menu and risking a glance towards his date. 

Hermione gave a nod of her head. “Both went well. I hope the rest of your day went well,” she offered as her gaze stayed on the menu, her foot lightly tapping on the ground beneath the table. 

“We were very busy,” Narcissa looked to Lucius fondly. He still locked himself most of the day tinkering, but he was home. 

Lucius glanced to his wife with a slightly more gentle expression. “It was eventful. The pair of you will be happy to know that Draco’s wing has been prepared.”

Draco felt the slightest bit of relief. “I appreciate it,” he looked between his parents. “I know this is a rather busy time of year.”

Hermione glanced up with a small smile. “Thank you,” she echoed before she looked back at the menu, giving him a chance to speak with his parents. 

Narcissa knew what she was getting, still she continued to glance over the pages. “It is,” she agreed with her son. “You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” she glanced over the book to look at those silver hues he’d gotten from his father.

The Malfoy patriarch let his wife do the talking for now as he looked at the menu. He was rather certain he knew what he wanted but at least it kept him from having to make small talk with the Mudblood. 

Draco swallowed down, taking a moment to respond. Of course he knew his mother would do just about anything for him. Still this was something hard for his family. 

“I’m glad to hear that’s still the case,” he admitted. 

Hermione glanced up at Narcissa and offered a slightly more genuine smile. “It is greatly appreciated, Mrs. Malfoy.” At least she could be polite, right? It was something that she hoped to continue. 

Narcissa struggled, but offered a small yet gracious smile. “A mother’s love knows no bounds.” Both a statement and a warning.

Lucius smiled at his wife and patted her hand gently. “Narcissa has always been quite the devoted mother to Draco,” he agreed and glanced back at the Gryffindor. “There is very little we wouldn’t do for our son.”

At that, Draco felt a warmth in his cheeks blossom. “And I appreciate it, and I’m certain so does Hermione,” he glanced her way. 

The brunette nodded her head and actually took her partner’s hand. “I do.”

Thanks to the menu, Narcissa couldn’t hide the fact that her lips pursed as though she’d ingested a lemon. Not trusting herself, she gave a small nod and a sound of approval before settling down her menu. 

“Good,” she finally spoke. “Family is so important this time of year.” 

Lucius gave a nod of his head to agree with his wife and glanced to Narcissa, shifting the topic rather than leaving it here. “What were you thinking of getting, my dear?”

“The veal,” she glanced at Lucius, glad for the reprieve. It was easy to just gaze at those silver hues.

Draco couldn’t help the apologetic look towards his date. He knew his mother’s words had been a jab, now that they knew her parents were still in hiding. “Anything catch your eye?” he asked.

Hermione just gave a slight shake of her head. This could be worse. Her family was safe. They were important, which is why she had hid them. “I was thinking about the salmon,” she admitted as she glanced back at the menu. 

After some empty chatter, their server brought drinks and left with their orders and the small shields their menus had been. For a few moments, things were quiet, though by looking at the Malfoy couple, they might as well have been in conversation. It was something Draco had grown used to, he barely even acknowledged it.

“Tomorrow we could walk through the gardens. I’m sure my mother has myriads of preparations for her party going on,” he hoped she would see it as a chance to be on property without feeling the weight of it.

The brunette considered that as she took a sip from her drink, glancing at his parents before she glanced back to Draco. “I’d like that...Would I be able to see the peacocks?”

At that the blond heir gave a breath of a laugh. “Definitely.”

Narcissa couldn’t help but perk a brow. “They are guard animals, you may want to be mindful of how you approach them.” Of course she nearly regretted saying so the moment the words parted her lips.

Lucius glanced to Narcissa and then back to the younger pair, seeming to contemplate. “...You’ll have to follow Draco’s lead or they might be rather fierce,” he cautioned, seeming neutral about the whole thing. 

Draco wanted to roll his eyes, though he knew better. “You’ll be fine, though I suppose it would be reason for you to stay close,” he added, knowing how aggravated his parents would be.

Hermione nodded her head with a faint smile. “Thank you for the concern, I appreciate it. Of course I’ll follow your lead,” she said to Draco with a gentle expression.

Oh she was perfect. Though his parents were the epitome of calmness, he knew better than to believe it was so. The stiffness of his mother’s upper lip told him he was in for a private chiding. 

Mr. Malfoy gave Hermione a once over and then gave a nod of his head. “...Wouldn’t be the brightest witch if you didn’t follow sense, after all,” he offered in a backhanded compliment. 

Narcissa dabbed her lips to conceal her mirth. Quite pleased when their orders came in, offering opportunities to conceal and hide as the conversation went on.

It took more self control than she cared to admit for her not to snap at the pair, but she just offered that distant and polite smile before she took a sip of her drink.

Draco appreciated the whiskey in his glass. Despite the lack of burn of its wizarding equivalent, it definitely helped. Though he was used to the duel of sharp tongues and backhanded commentary, he had to hope his date could hold back. 

Instead of fueling the fire, he took a few bites from his plate as his father discussed wines with the sommelier. 

It seemed as if the Malfoy couple were exchanging words with silent looks before continuing to speak with the sommelier about finding just the _perfect_ glass to match with their food. The preoccupation was fine with Hermione as she took a bite of her food and discreetly squeezed Draco’s hand. 

A squeeze the Malfoy heir returned. “Is it to your liking?” He asked, avoiding any topic that might cause another wave of unwarranted comments.

“It is. How’s yours?” She asked lightly, letting her thumb brush the back of his hand. 

Before he had a chance to answer, she caught a hint of red out of the corner of her eyes that made her glance over. The last thing she expected was to see Ron escorting Pansy to dinner. 

“Delightful,” he began to answer and followed her gaze as it seemed to shift. He’d half expected to note something on one of his parents expressions, but the sight he caught was rather shocking, even he couldn’t stop his expression from changing. 

Narcissa almost took it personally until she turned to see what the new silence that befell the table was about. 

“Is that…” she began, a level of offense as if she had watched someone pluck her peacocks before her. The hand that had daintily held her knife was giving Lucius’ forearm a squeeze.

Lucius covered his wife’s hand with his own as he glanced over at the pair. “Well…” he started, but he wasn’t sure what else to say about the glimpse of this pair together like they were. 

The brunette, on the other hand, chuckled slightly. “Seems they’re getting along rather well….I suppose Mrs. Weasley might get a plus one from Ronald after all,” she said with a small note of amusement. 

Draco braced himself for his mother’s wrath. “Mother, surely we shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” he offered diplomatically.

“And what conclusions should I be jumping to? That you’ve insulted your oldest friend so thoroughly she’d pursue a Weasley?” She gritted through her teeth. “Or perhaps that you orchestrated it to get out of your obligations because clearly everything is jest and game.”

Lucius glanced to his wife and then back to his son with a stern expression. “Perhaps once back at the manor, Draco, you should tell both of us what it was exactly you did to create such a….rift between yourself and Pansy,” he stated. It wasn’t truly a request after all. 

The way the pair of them reacted actually had Hermione raise a brow, but she stayed out of it. Even though she kept her hand in Draco’s and glanced back at the pair. While she didn’t know Pansy all that well...she honestly thought that she looked somewhat happier than she had since the beginning of term.

“Of course,” the words came out more snide than he’d willed it. His hand was firm in his lover’s, needing her there. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d manage this far down this conversation without her. 

Narcissa took a deep breath, seemingly calmed, if not for the apparent tempest brewing in her gaze as she eyed them. “At least hold yourself properly,” she seethed as pleasantly as she could. “I’m sure your friend would appreciate having both hands for her cutlery.”

Lucius lifted Narcissa’s hand and applied a gentle kiss to it before he reached back for his own cutlery, not making another comment at his tone. They’d have a conversation at home. Where they wouldn’t cause a scene. 

Rubbing her thumb back and forth over the back of Draco’s hand, Hermione tried not to glare at his parents. The fact that they brought that snideness back out of him made her irritated. More than she would have thought. But she smiled slightly. “The salmon is as soft as butter, well cooked. I could easily manage with one hand.”

“Is it?” He asked, giving his mother an innocent glance before looking over at Hermione. Before she could take another bite he nudged her arm. “Mind if I try it?” He asked with a cheeky look. 

Oh, this was far too good an opportunity to pass up. She got a piece of the salmon on her fork and offered it to him. “Not at all.”

No sooner had he settled his lips around that offering did his full name come in a hushed yet alarmed sounding Mrs Malfoy.

“Draco Hyperion Malfoy,” she had nearly choked. “Honestly, I…” she began. “You…”

“Absolutely delicious,” he agreed, not quite acknowledging his mother’s near hyperventilating. When he finally did he merely offered a curt smile. “I believe you were about to chide me for being juvenile,” he offered.

At that, Narcissa straightened and did something completely contrary to her very nature. “I do forget you are still merely a schoolboy,” she readjusted her napkin. She returned to her plate seemingly more preoccupied with it than her son’s apparent attempts for a public rise.

Lucius glanced at his son and let out a slow breath to keep himself from shouting. “Honestly, Draco, you were raised better,” he drawled, though the anger sparked in those grey eyes of his. 

Trying not to chuckle at their reaction, she managed to not roll her eyes as she glanced back at her partner. “Glad that you like it as well,” she said simply before taking another bite for herself and staying where she was. If they had a problem with them holding hands, all the more reason to do it as long as possible. 

He was definitely in for it, he knew that much. “Care to try mine?” He pushed it. At least his mother seemed to be internalizing her frustrations. He was certain it would only make it far worse once home, and yet, he doubted even his father would pull out his cane with a guest in the house.

“Absolutely,” she answered with a cheeky smile. Oh, she knew they were messing with his family. Hers wouldn’t be bothered by this, so she just acted like it was normal for everyone. 

At their exchange, Lucius took another bite of his food and ordered another drink from their server. Who knew he’d need this much whiskey to deal with his son’s rebellion? 

Narcissa found herself in need of more wine at the display. It was beyond childish. Though part of her wondered if it had anything to do with Pansy sharing a bubble with the Weasley child nearby. 

Draco enjoyed their shared proximity. Perhaps he was being foolish, careless even, but he had no desire to stop. Not when it came to being close to his lover. 

Taking a bite of Draco’s food, she let out a soft hum in approval and nodded her head. Delicious. “Thank you.” As tempting as it was to kiss his cheek, she went back to eating. They were already antagonizing his parents. 

Draco couldn’t help but lick his lips. He had to focus on his meal to not go too far. This was already beyond pushing it. “Any breakthroughs in your project, father?” He asked. It was surprising the man had joined given how invested he’d been in fixing the time turner pieces he’d salvaged.

That got Hermione’s attention, though she just glanced at Mr. Malfoy while she continued to eat her food. If she kept giving too much attention to Draco she’d be half tempted to tease him. And it was only half tempted because they were around his family. 

“Not as of yet, Draco. It’s a tedious process. The original schematics are so closely guarded that it’s hard to completely recreate. I’m sure I’ll manage it,” he drawled with a hint of determination. 

“Of course you will dear,” Narcissa offered her husband a smile. 

Draco gave a nod. “If anyone can it’s you,” he responded. Of course he could only hope his father didn’t succeed in his endeavors. It was a fool’s project. One he hoped the man would move on from.

Hermione actually lifted a brow slightly at that. Part of her wanted to ask...but she didn’t know if that would be seen as too rude. 

Slowly their plates began to dwindle. As dinner seemed to draw to an end, Narcissa settled her cutlery down and with it her napkin. “Shall we have dessert back at the Manor?” She asked. It took quite a bit for her not to add a snide remark. Mainly to avoid giving the pair any more ideas.

That idea was rather appealing to Lucius. Getting out of Muggle London would afford them more privacy and allow for them to talk with their son a bit more openly. “I think that would be a splendid idea…”

Draco dreaded returning to the Manor and yet he knew it would come sooner or later. “If it’s no trouble, I’m sure the staff has been quite…”

“It’s already been prepared,” she countered. “Not that you’ve ever shown interest in how a household is actually managed.”

Hermione actually blinked just a bit at that. Part of her wanted to poke at Draco for that, but that could be done later. “That sounds like a great idea, Mrs. Malfoy. It will also give us a chance to unpack sooner,” she said lightly to change the subject slightly. 

“It has been a rather long day,” Draco agreed. It would be nice to find his bed again. 

“Then it’s settled,” she gave a nod.

Lucius got the check and pulled out the piece of Muggle plastic that was used for such transactions. Muggle money was such a strange thing but some of the most extravagant places required it, as unfortunate as that was. 

It wasn’t much longer after the transaction was complete that Mrs Malfoy ushered them up and out of their bubble. Though she made no show of it, she stole a last glance at the nearby glass igloo that housed Pansy and what she tried to deny was her date. Not another word was spoken until they were ushered to a large fireplace nearby where it was safe to floo back to the Manor and away from the bustle of London.

She lost no time heading to the kitchen to get the staff in gear.

“We’ll go unpack,” he told his father. “Did mother have a specific room in mind for dessert?” If it was already planned, he figured she also had a location in their home she wanted to expose.

Lucius nodded his head as he glanced at his son. “The main drawing room. She’s quite proud she has it back in order after the war. The chandelier was replaced and everything,” he stated simply. 

Without the context of the chandelier, Hermione wouldn’t have known which room she was about to have to go in. It made her heart start to hammer in her chest but she kept that polite expression on her face. “We’ll be sure to make quick work of our bags, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco nodded, gently tucking Hermione’s hand in the crook of his elbow to lead her up the grand staircase. He waited until a floor and some hall separated them from his parents to speak.

“I can always tell them you’re not feeling well if you…” he began, unsure how to even continue that statement.

Hermione stayed pressed close to him, holding onto his elbow as she gave a shake of her head. She took in a deep slow breath before looking up at him. “...And let them know that it still bothers me? No. I’ll...I’ll manage,” she insisted.

“The house is different from your last stay,” he promised, keeping her as close as he could on the way to his wing. 

The wing was neat and well put together. There were some decorations for the holiday along the upper part of the wall and there appeared to be at least four doors on this wing. How many rooms did he have access to? It didn’t _really_ surprise Hermione that her partner had this much in his home for him. There was a lot that could likely keep her occupied. 

“I know,” she answered and squeezed his arm gently. She trusted him. More than she ever thought she would before. 

Draco only released her to open the double doors to his private chambers. “I’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow,” he promised, leading the way. 

Stepping inside after him, she brushed a hand through her hair and moved to her trunk to get a few things out of it. As usual, she brought a book to read from and several outfits that hopefully would be seen as proper enough. 

“I look forward to it.”

It was hard to focus on his surroundings. Even his quarters had gotten a number of redecorating. He noted a change in the curtains. They were a lighter shade of green, yet still rich. A few charms had spruced up the wood furnishings, and his bed had been enlarged, not that he minded it or the thick Malfoy crest bearing accents. 

With his trunk having been sorted by his elf, he took a seat in a plump armchair as she worked. “There’s an en suite through those doors,” he pointed. “If you need to add your potions and things or…” he blabbered.

As she unpacked some of her books and something to sleep in later, she smiled over at him and gave a nod of her head. Carefully getting out a few of her hair potions, she went through those doors to find a place to put them. The en suite was rather large as well, not that she was surprised, but when she came back she strode over to the armchair and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you,” she murmured softly against his skin. 

It was odd being home, but her presence helped. “Thank you for joining me.” He reached to tuck a strand of her hair back.

A small smile curved her lips. “You’re welcome. Just remember this when I want you to meet my family,” she half joked. 

“At least I don’t have to worry about them cursing me,” he grinned, snaking an arm around her to draw her in closer.

Moving to sit in his lap in that arm chair, she wrapped an arm around him. “No...no worries about cursing you. Should I be more concerned?” She asked with a raised brow and a faint smile. 

“You, unlikely, me...debatable.” It wouldn’t be the first or last duel with his father. The man enjoyed it for sport, though even that had rules of engagement like everything else. It didn’t matter. She was in his bed for the length of their stay. 

Draco settled his chin on her shoulder, peering over it to where his hand held hers. “Perhaps we shouldn’t antagonize them too much…” he said gently. “I would rather have some energy left for more enjoyable company after.” He added lifting his gaze to meet hers. 

Hermione’s fingers lightly traced through his hair and smoothed it back from his face. Her fingers trailed lightly along his shoulders. “...Well, I prefer they not hex or curse the man I love,” she grumbled slightly before she pressed a kiss to his temple. 

“I’ll follow your lead. They’re your parents and this is your home,” she assured him.

Those soft touches had him feel more relaxed. “It’s hard to stay calm when they insult my witch,” he admitted. 

There was an odd feeling of satisfaction at being called his, but she raised a brow with a smile. “Your witch, huh?” She asked softly and continued to brush her fingers through his hair. “I can handle insults, Draco.”

“Mine,” he nearly purred the word. The feel of her combing through his hair had him fight a shiver. “You did punch me over an insult,” he reminded, brushing up her cheek and down her jaw. It was a heat he understood.

“I think I can get used to hearing that." A bit of a blush warming her cheeks before she leaned into his hand lightly with a gentle sigh. “...I was 13. I have learned restraint since, you know…”

Nudging her chin, he led her to face him. “You have?” He asked teasingly, claiming her lips before she could respond.

Kissing him back she nearly melted into the kiss. She had self restraint except when it came to this it seemed. Her fingers stroked through his hair as she stayed close, slowly breaking the kiss. “...That’s not fair,” she playfully whined.

Draco beckoned her lips again. His fingers trailing along her arm and over her front. He didn’t want restraint. 

Hermione kissed him back again, letting herself simply indulge in the closeness. Until she knew where she could put her clothing there wasn’t too much more she could do for now. 

It was far too easy to get lost with the witch in his lap. Time was a concept he lost track of. He barely heard the pop of his house elf making an appearance to summon them. Not until the creature gave an apologetic cough.

“M-master M-malfoy is requested with his guest,” the squeaky voice announced. 

Pulling away from him she took in a slow breath. “Distracting me,” she playfully chided him quietly before she moved out of his lap. “..We’ll be right down.”

“I’ll do more than that later,” he promised under his breath before acknowledging the elf. “We’ll be down shortly,” he assured and the creature disappeared with a pop.

Hermione straightened her hair and adjusted her clothes soon. “I’m sure you will,” she chuckled quietly. 

The reality of what room they were going to actually had her heart hammering in her chest. While she knew logically nothing would happen to her in that room, she still dreaded it. 

With her arm tucked in his, he kept a hold of her hand. He hoped to be soothing, to the best of his abilities. Even his parents' memories couldn’t have been fond of that particular room. He knew most of it had been gutted, but he was as oblivious as she as to what to expect beyond the thick wooden doors. 

They were open when they reached the room. Though the curtains were open, no sunlight poured in. Merely the ghostly glow of the moon chased by the bright fire burning in the large hearth. 

A new carpet covered the dark wood floors. Lighter than its predecessor, the creams and silver in it offering a lightness to the room it once lacked.

“There you both are,” Narcissa greeted them from where she sat in a velvet armchair the color of moss. 

“Did the pair of you have difficulty trying to place your...guest’s things?” Lucius asked with a slight note of amusement to his voice. His son would likely know he didn’t mean that jovial tone...but the girl wouldn’t. 

Staying on Draco’s arm she chuckled slightly. “A little bit. Thank you both again for being so welcoming. You have a rather lovely home.” And she did like the lighter colors in this room. It was a far cry from when she was here last. 

“You know how ladies are mother, so many trinkets and products,” he returned, leading his partner to a settee. “At least Hermione packs far lighter than you would,” he smirked.

Trying not to laugh at that, Hermione actually offered a smile as she took a seat. “I restrained myself from packing more books.”

Narcissa kept a small forced smile on her lips. “Honestly Draco, you could have told her you had a library adjoining your study,” she chided as if that were the most normal thing in the world.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Lucius just shook his head. “Clearly he didn’t think it was important. Even if his friends knew about it before they even stepped through the front door.”

“Ah yes, Miss Parkinson and Mr Zabini were quite excited to see it when we gifted it to him,” she remembered fondly over her porcelain tea cup. 

Draco ignored them, serving them both tea with a flick of his wand. “Dessert?” He asked Hermione, anything to make his parents stop whatever it was they were doing.

It was hard to ignore his parents, but she felt like she could. “Please. Whatever you’re having,” she said as she picked up her tea cup. He’d prepared it how she liked it. Thoughtful. 

After summoning two plates of carefully decorated petits fours and biscuits, Draco looked at his parents. “I see you’ve been busy around the house,” he told his mother. “I hardly recognize any room I walk in. Has father been locking himself in his study that much?” He said, turning the tables and hopefully with it, the attentive off him for a moment.

Lucius couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at that. “I have my projects and your mother has hers. The house was a bit more chaotic before you went back to school. Your mother has done a wonderful job with it all,” he countered and glanced to his wife with a smile before reaching for a petit four.

Narcissa smiled at her husband, a silent thanks. “Perhaps it moved along so quickly because I didn’t have two Malfoy wizards to tend to,” she teased her son. 

“I do like what you’ve done, just making sure father isn’t ignoring you, though if my attention offends, perhaps our lunches take away too…”

“Nonsense,” she hushed him. “Our lunches remain.” 

Draco lifted a hand in surrender, a smile on his face. “Good.” He did enjoy his time with his mother. She was far less vicious without his father around. 

“Would I truly neglect your mother?” Lucius asked with a bit of mock offense as he looked at his son and reached over to lightly take his wife’s hand. 

Hermione tried not to chuckle at the idea. Even she could tell that the older Malfoy wizard spent a lot of time and attention on his wife. It was almost sweet. 

“You do get quite invested in your research,” Draco simply replied. “Though it seems you do make up for it,” he glanced between his parents. They truly did love each other, which made him hope they would understand his heart's desire.

Narcissa gave her husband’s hand a squeeze and looked fondly between the two wizards in her life. “At least I know I’ve raised you well...most of the time,” she smirked.

Draco shook his head. At least his lover got to see a side to his parents few did. 

“Of course I do. A wizard should always take care of his responsibilities and his witch,” Lucius added with a small smile before grabbing one more petit four.

On that he couldn’t agree more. “Haven’t heard many complaints,” he offered Hermione a smirk. 

A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she smiled. “Of course not. You’re a proper gentleman,” she answered with a smile before eating one of the petit fours. 

He could be. With her it was easy. Draco sipped at his tea, enjoying it alongside the various sweets he’d gotten himself. He wondered how long before his parents made their blatant remarks now that they were all behind closed doors. 

Taking a sip of his coffee, Lucius glanced first to his wife, and then to his son. “So, Draco. What happened between you and Pansy?”

“We’re still friends last time I checked,” he said simply. “We are best suited as friends. Always have been.” His hand lingered against Hermione’s. 

His mother looked at his father, a seeming conversation exchanged through passing gazes. Something he always wondered about. Something he could never envision having with Pansy. 

“Draco darling, friendship is the strongest foundation to build on. Not many in your situation have that. And now it seems you’re both in a bit of a tiff, don’t lie to me.”

Lucius nodded his head to agree with his wife. “Exactly. The two of you have always been close and now there seems to be a...rift of sorts. Saying you’re still friends is not telling us what happened, Draco.”

Hermione let her thumb feather back and forth gently across Draco’s knuckles. The last thing they needed was for a fight to break out _now_ after just arriving. 

“It’s not my place to tell,” he responded honestly. “Though given her new found closeness to Weasley, I’d say whatever she wishes to accuse me of is rather...nonexistent.”

Narcissa narrowed her gaze on her son. “For Merlin’s sake boy,” she nearly hissed. “What did you do?”

The brunette almost flinched away at that hiss. Narcissa was nothing like her sister, but in this room? That hiss just reminded her of the last time she was here. Putting down her tea cup, she shifted her arm around her stomach carefully and glanced to Draco. 

Lucius put down his own cup and lightly rubbed at his temples. “Clearly there are parts of it that are your story to tell or she wouldn’t be mad at _you_ , Draco.”

“I can’t be held responsible for her getting into the wrong inn suite,” he bit into the words. He was careful not to mention Hermione. There was no need to place any of his parents' aggravation on her. 

Narcissa seemed confused, looking to Lucius a moment. “I don’t understand,” she sighed looking at her son.

“Pansy thought she was slipping into my room at the Three Broomsticks, apparently with ideas of her own, and well it wasn’t my quarters. Is that clear enough for you mother?”

Narcissa paused a moment. “I see.” The words were almost ice.

Lucius simply straightened a bit at that. He didn’t say a word but picked back up his cup and took a slow sip of his coffee. This was a more complicated issue than he thought. 

Hermione didn’t say a word and just stayed close to Draco. The hostility she could almost feel had her heart beat picking up in her chest. 

Narcissa sipped at her tea before settling her cup down. The sound of porcelain louder than normal given the silence in the room. “Why would she feel the need to do such a thing?” She began to ask.

“Look, if you’re trying to blame me for it, I wasn’t at fault. Until recently Hermione and I have been discreet, and I honestly have no reason to be at this point. I appreciate both your concerns for my future, but I’m honestly relieved to be free from…”

He never finished that his mother rose to her feet. There were a thousand words she wanted to speak, but she held back. “I’m going to bed. We can finish this another night,” she dismissed, clearly wanting nothing to do with where this discussion was going. 

Lucius gave his son a rather stern look as he moved to stand. “Enjoy your dessert, Draco, Ms. Granger,” he drawled, though there was a stiffness to his words as he offered his wife his arm. “We’ll finish this discussion alone later,” he said sternly.

Hermione tried not to flinch, her grip subtly tightening on her partner’s hand before she reached for her tea and took another long sip from it. 

Draco wasn’t hungry, but he summoned another petit four out of spite. “Of course,” he retorted. This was the Malfoy equivalent of door slamming, though no such sound could be heard. Once his parents were gone he rested his head on Hermione’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure what to say. Part of him wanted to apologize, though that seemed a silly thing to do. “Welcome to the Manor,” he sighed. 

Turning her head, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head and stayed close to him. “Well….that could have been worse,” she said quietly before she finished her tea. 

“Oh it will,” he sighed. “Though I expect it will be a day or two before we see my parents again.” Draco washed down his last bite with the last of his tea and settled it all on the coffee table before settling more comfortably beside Hermione. His arm wrapped around her middle while he pressed a small kiss to the side of her neck. 

A shiver rolled down her spine, but she finished her last petit four and pulled her feet up next to her as she settled in against Draco. Her head rested on his as she laced their fingers together. “We can handle it,” she assured him quietly. 

He met her gaze and gave a nod. “Now that we’re alone…” he smirked. “Would you like new memories of this room or return to my wing?” He asked with a devilish smirk.

That suggestion had her blush a brighter shade of red. “Draco,” she gasped quietly and very lightly swatted his arm. “Your wing,” she replied, trying not to fidget. 

He merely kept his expression of amusement as he stood, offering her his hand. “My wing it is.”

Taking his hand she shook her head with a bit of a smile. “You’re a terrible influence,” she tried not to giggle. 

“Is that a complaint?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” she murmured with a smile as she let him lead the way back to his room. 

“Well then,” he tucked her arm in his. “This is the grand staircase,” he said, guiding her forward. He introduced her to a few disgruntled portraits of his ancestors along the hall.


End file.
